


Lethe

by Conduitstreetcat, TheGreenFaerie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aaand Even More Fucking, Amnesia, Angst, BDSM, Feels, Knifeplay, M/M, POV Alternating, So much sweetness, Violence, adorable little shits, mormor, so much fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 160,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16233998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenFaerie/pseuds/TheGreenFaerie
Summary: Sebastian is inexplicably suffering from total memory loss the day of an important meeting that could erupt into violence.Jim is SO not happy about this, but has to help Sebastian to try and recover his memories- if he ever wants his best man back on the job.(Because that's all you care about, right Jim...?)





	1. A Defective Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> Lethe is one of five rivers of the Underworld in Greek mythology.  
> The spirits of the dead would have to drink the waters of Lethe in order to forget their earthly lives. Some believed it was so spirits could go on to be reincarnated, with no memories of their previous life. 
> 
> A few mystery religions (such as Orphism) taught that the waters of the Mnemosyne would allow one to keep their memories and create a state of omniscience. Initiates were given the choice of drinking from Lethe or Mnemosyne. 
> 
> Mnemosyne was the Goddess of memory, and mother of the nine Muses.  
> Lethe was the Goddess of forgetfulness and oblivion. She was the daughter of Eris, the Goddess of strife and discord.
> 
> "Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls his watery labyrinth, which whoso drinks forgets both joy and grief."  
> John Milton

 

I wake up - fuck, that was one hell of a party last night - my head feels like it's been split with a sledgehammer. Or maybe it _has_ been split with a sledgehammer - was it a party or a fight? Everything is hazy. I open my eyes, but the light is much too bright - I close them again, but not before I've noticed I'm not at home. I'm in _someone's_ home, but it's not mine - I don't recognize it. I try to get up, but raising my head makes it pound even worse. I shield my eyes with my hand, try to peek out again. No idea where I am.

 

 

_I approach home, wondering how your mission went. And why am I wondering this anyway? Because a certain someone didn't report in that things went according to plan? Left me wondering if something was wrong? Not good, Moran...  the car slows down, and I get out. As I head to the door, I find my jaw clenching and unclenching. It was at *your* insistence that you became more involved in the Empire. Now you're getting lax with information? I unlock the door, and once I'm in, shut it rather forcefully. If you're not home and begging for forgiveness, I shall be *very* cross._

 

 

I hear a door slam. Is that someone coming in or going out? Footsteps - someone coming in. Hopefully seeing whoever I spent the night with will remind me what happened. Man, by the sound of the footsteps. I slowly move my eyes to face the door.

 

 

_I listen, and hear nothing. "Are you here, darling?" I call out. "Should I put out tea and biscuits?" I take my phone from my pocket, see nothing - throw it onto the sofa. I stare up at the ceiling... If you're sleeping... I grit my teeth, and stalk towards the stairs. By the time I get to the bedroom, I'm hoping for your sake that you're not here._

 

 

He calls out - pleasant Irish voice. Darling? Tea and biscuits? Huh, we're getting awfully close for a one-night stand, aren't we? I don't think I can call back - but the footsteps are coming up the stairs, hopefully over here.

 

 

_I stand in the doorway- you're just staring at me. Are you afraid, Sebastian? Because you really should be. But, no- you just look like you're trying to solve a puzzle. "Daddy's patience is a thread away from snapping, darling," I say through gritted teeth. "What the fuck."_

 

 

Daddy? I'm pretty sure that's not my kink. Also, I have never seen this bloke before in my life. Yet he calls me darling. What the fuck?

 

 

_Aaaand you're still just staring at me. I start pacing. "Sebastian... we are getting dangerously close to the point of no return. Do I handle disappointment well? Do I handle not being kept in the loop well?..." I glare at you. "*Well*?"_

 

 

Sebastian? My name is not Sebastian. It's...

Wait.

It's...

What the fuck is my name?

I look up at you, confused.

 

 

_I stop pacing. "*Sebastian fucking Moran*. Have you lost your mind? You do not want to play this game with me." I lean down to you, and grip your chin in my hand. "_

_Now. Last chance. Tell me what's happening, before I have to find a replacement for you, and call a cleaning service to deal with your remains."_

 

Wait hold on. I may be momentarily confused but I don't let people grab my chin like that. Not to mention talk to me in that tone. I grab your wrist and wrench your hand away. "Get your fucking hands off me," I growl.

 

 

_As you throw my hand off you, I start laughing. It is not a happy laugh. It is a dangerous laugh that no one wants to hear. Because it means great pain is coming. "All right," I say, hands up and placating. Until one shoots towards your throat, making contact with your larynx._

 

 

What the fuck is this dude's problem? I don't know what we did last night, but something evidently made him unhappy.

I grab your arm at the wrist and the elbow, twist it away from my neck, ignore the pounding pain in my head as I sit up and wrench it onto your back. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

 

 

_"I could ask you the same thing, Dead Man Walking," I snarl, and slam my forehead against yours. This throws you back long enough to free my arm, and I throw an elbow viciously into your solar plexus._

 

 

Fuck! This dude is vicious! And my head is now pounding even worse - I'm seeing stars. Still. Get it together soldier - you're under attack. The elbow in my solar plexus makes me bend double, but I'm up again, jump out at you, grab your handy tie and your left arm - you're left-handed - and pull you over the bed, your arm wrenched on your back and my knee on your kidneys. "What. The fuck. Is going on."

 

 

_"What. The fuck. Did. You. Expect." I growl. "You fucked up. There are *consequences*. Now. Let me up, and let's have a civilized conversation about what's going on." I glance back at you over my shoulder. "There's a good Tiger..."_

 

 

I fucked up? Is that why my head is pounding like mad - did someone beat me up? Did I fall and hit my fucking head on stones? Why can't I _remember_? And who is this annoying little git?

"I'll have a civilized conversation from here, if it's all the same to you. You're a little too handsy for my taste. Now. First things first. Who the hell are you and what happened last night?"

 

_Seriously...? How did I not consider this as a possibility? It's really the only answer to such suicidal behaviour on your part. I breathe in, and allow my muscles to relax. "Sebastian. Calm down. Are you telling me you don't remember anything?"_

 

"Stop calling me Sebastian! I'm not Sebastian. I'm...

I can't recall at the moment. But no, I don't remember anything. What happened? Did I fight? Did I fall? Did you bring me here?"

 

 

_"OK. We're going to get to the bottom of this, but we can't do that like this," I say, infusing my voice with a reassuring tone. "Now- you're going to let me up. And we're going to sit down and figure this out. I'm sorry things got so out of control." I glance back again, and give you what I hope is a calm smile, and not a demented grimace._

 

 

OK... you look reasonable enough I suppose... I let go of your arm and get off you, sit down on the bed. "Who are you?"

 

_"I'm your-" I stop short. There's a question. "I'm your employer." I stare intently at you. You continue to look perplexed. Suddenly I'm wondering if you're trying to pull a fast one, to cover up for something. Hmmm - you wouldn't be that stupid, would you? "James Moriarty." Still nothing. I sigh. "Let's try another approach. What *do* you remember?"_

 

 

... that's a good question. What do I remember? It's all... it's like swimming through treacle, trying to navigate through my mind. "I'm... a soldier. I'm in the army. But... I can't remember... I don't know where. I don't know what my division is. I can't... I don't know my name."

Fuck. This is scary.

 

 

_You're freaking out a little. Makes sense. I place my hand on your shoulder. "OK, let's not panic. You probably hit your head, and - your memory will come back, don't worry. Let's just fill in a few gaps, and see if anything feels familiar. Yes?" I smile at you- reassuringly, I hope. This could not have come at a worse time, Moran. There's information I need in your brain, and tasks that only you can accomplish. I rub my eyes. Be nice, Moriarty..._

 

 

You look... friendly, but there's something behind those eyes, something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, like looking at a beautiful but deadly viper in the desert. Wait - the desert. "I remember the desert. Was I in the desert? What do you mean you're my employer?"

 

 

_"You were in the desert when you were in the army, but you're retired from that now. You've been working for me the last 2 years." I watch you as you digest this information. Can you handle more details than that? Fuck it. I'm not your babysitter. "I run a criminal empire. You're my sniper and my right-hand man. And I really need you to get back to work. Any of this ringing any bells, poppet?" I give you a toothy grin._

 

 

You've been my employer for the past two years? I look at you - handsome enough face, I suppose, with something deadly in the eyes - not a face you'd forget. But I have no idea who you are. Yet you say I'm your right-hand man, so supposedly we've interacted regularly. And a... "Criminal _Empire_?!" I snort. "You have a flair for the dramatic, don't you? Hence the skulls on your tie?"

 

 

_I tilt my head to the side, and imagine smashing your face against the bedpost. Would that jostle your memories back into place, I wonder... probably not. I sigh, and give you a predatory smile. "You probably shouldn't run your mouth off when your mind's a complete blank. And the tie was a gift from *you*… darling."_

 

 

"Really? Well, I have most excellent taste, I must say," I grin, but that deadly something in your eyes is getting really quite close to the surface now, and my sense of self-preservation is trying to get a word in, telling me to get the _fuck_ away from this man. I see visions of scorpions, cobras, sharks - there's something primordially evil just under the surface there, which should make me want to get the _hell_ out of here. But instead, I find I'm intrigued. "So - you're my boss? And I'm a... criminal viceroy?"

 

 

_I snort. "*Viceroy*… that works. Just remember who's King." I stand up, and start pacing. "I suppose it's too much to ask that you remember anything about the job today?" Your blank expression grates on my nerves. "Of *course* it is. Not a problem… We'll just assume everything's hunky-dory as the last of the pieces are falling into place in a winner-takers-all-losers-end-up-bloody-on-the floor scenario. It's fine." I look at you. "I suppose you should be looked at by a doctor. Clean up and be ready to go in five."_

 

 

You're a bit of a bossy... boss, aren't you? I don't expect I spend much time with you, I'd have surely beaten that arrogance out of you by now - I can’t stand that kind of attitude. But you're right - a doctor is really a good idea. So I was in a job? "What was I doing? What might have happened?"

 

 

_"I'll fill you in on the ride over. I have a call to make." I stalk out of the bedroom, and head downstairs to my phone. A moment later, and one of the medical doctors on standby is expecting us. I listen for sounds of you getting ready, and hear nothing. "Se-bas-tian..." I sing loudly, then take the stairs two at time. I see you lying on the bed, looking pensive. "Darling..." I say with exaggerated patience, covering my face with my hand. "*Will* you get the fuck up and get changed so we can get to your medical exam... now."_

 

 

I can't find _anything_. It's fucking terrifying. Every time I think I glimpse something in my head, when I turn to look at it straight on, it's gone. I just have blips, glimpses, a quick sighting of _something_ \- a flash of colour, a fragment of sound, and every fucking time I go to grasp it, it slips away. It's so fucking frustrating and well, scary. I try and try but I can't... find... the way to anything. I don't remember my name. I don't remember my rank, or where I was stationed. My parents. Pets. School. Lovers. Nothing. Fuck.

You come in and snap at me. God, you're getting on my tits. I scowl, look around - there are clothes on the floor that I assume are mine, so I get into them.

 

 

_I stand in the doorway, watching you dress. You look surly, on edge. Well, we're *all* on edge, darling. I sigh impatiently, trying to contain every impulse that moves through me. Don't lose it, Moriarty... it's not going to help matters any. "Could you take any longer, Sebastian? Let's *go*."_

 

 

"Are you always so charming?" I can't help but snap. "Fuck's sake, I got injured in your employ, and while I suspect the medical benefits are alright, you could be a bit more pleasant about it."

 

 

_I laugh loudly. "Pleasant... yes. I can be very pleasant. I can also be the antithesis of pleasant. I'm trying very hard to remind myself these are extenuating circumstances. But things are extremely tense with what you were working on today. So perhaps you can extend some patience towards me, as well." I sigh and rub my eyes. "Ready? Let's go."_

 

 

Well, since I have _no idea_ what I was working on, and it may well have been life or death circumstances, I'll let it pass, for this time. But you better start acting a bit more reasonable if you expect me to continue in your employ, Mr _Emperor_. I noticed whilst getting dressed I'm covered in scars - some from bullets but some look like torture, and not so far gone. Gained in your service then, rather than in the army. Looks like you have quite a lot to thank me for, and I'd not forget that, little fucker.

 

 

_You're glaring at me. I smile at you wryly. "Have something on your mind, Sebastian? Walk and talk - but tread carefully." I turn and head for the stairs. I can hear you following me, although you could pick up the pace a little. I look back and you look like a sullen teenager. "Jesus *Christ*, Moran... could you move any slower?" I shout, despite my best intentions. I'm trying so hard to be good..._

 

 

Don't shout. My fucking head. It's hard enough walking down these stairs, they keep twirling in unpredictable directions. "Shut up, will you? My head is bursting and your bloody house won't stop spinning."

 

 

_I take a deep breath. I walk back up to where you're standing on the staircase. "I'm- sorry," I say. It feels like speaking around a mouthful of rusty nails. "I'm not very good at - " I wave my hand, helplessly. "This. Especially today. But- you're clearly not well. So I - apologize..." I say through gritted teeth. I look at you, and I soften. I put my arm around you. "Lean on me, if you need. One step at a time. We'll take care of this."_

 

 

You apologize, but it sounds like it's being dragged forcefully through your teeth being fought all the way. But then you look at me and your face takes on a friendlier hue, and you support me down the stairs. You're remarkably strong for a scrawny little fucker - I'd noticed that when we were fighting. So it's not just you sitting back and letting me do all the work then. Good. I like an employer who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

 

 

_Walking with you reminds me of other times when you've been injured, and I've helped take care of you. This is no different, I remind myself. Stop shouting at him. Feeling your body against mine makes me feel warm, and now my impulse is to shout at myself. With everything you have going on today Moriarty… with everything that could go wrong, and now a defective Tiger to boot... you're feeling affectionate?? Why not stop and have a cuddle? Then go out for ice cream? We're silent as I get you down the stairs, and out the door. The driver is waiting, and I bustle you into the car. Sitting down, I search your face. "Feeling OK?" I squash the desire to roll my eyes, but I'm not sure if I'd be rolling them at you or myself._

 

 

"No, not really. I think I may have concussion. Everything keeps spinning and my head is pounding. But I don't feel the urge to throw up... I don't know. Let the doctor say." I sit back, looking out the window so the movement of the car doesn't make me feel even sicker. I am very conscious of your presence beside me - can feel your eyes boring into me. I'm not sure what they're trying to say, or what they're seeing, but I can feel that you're massively conflicted with the situation - you're furious and trying not to be. Well. Points for trying, I suppose.

 

 

_Well, now I feel - bad. What? No. I don't. This situation is outlandish, and I'm getting all turned around. Anyway. You've stopped being annoying, so I can stop giving you a hard time. Thank heavens for small mercies. I feel something chewing on me... worry? About what? You?? No, *no*… I need you at your best for today, that's all. I pat your thigh. "Everything will be fine," I say soothingly. Jesus Christ, Moriarty - not getting mad doesn't mean turning into a nursemaid. *For fuck's sake*..._

 

 

You pat my thigh - you seem very hands-on for a criminal emperor. And you were in my house - hold on. "Are we lovers?" I blurt out.

 

 

_I laugh, despite myself. "Finally pieced that together, did you?" I shake my head. "We don't define it, exactly- but we're shagging. Yes." I stare in amusement at you, waiting for your reaction._

 

 

The urge to look at you is greater than the need to keep my head steady. I look at your head swimming in and out of focus. Well - I could have done worse. You're damn hot. But your demeanour - "You treat all your lovers like that?"

 

_This time the eye roll cannot be contained. "Sebastian. Do try and catch up. I treat whoever I want however I want." I sigh, and stare out the window. "You've always been a mouthy one, but amnesia is bringing it to a new level. Try to remember I'm your boss, there's a good Tiger..."_

 

 

God… you're a bit of a prat, aren't you? It's a good thing you're hot. "Sure thing, _boss_ ," I say, rolling my eyes. Let's get my head sorted out first, then I'll deal with this arrogant little prick.

 

_I move my head to hide my smile. Well, if you're being this sarcastic, things can't be too mixed up in that brain of yours. Still, there's nothing for it but some discipline... I wonder how long I'll have to wait before I can remind you of the repercussions of your delicious insolence..._

 

 

We get to the doctor's, a nondescript house. I get out of the car, stand up with difficulty, as the door is opened by a middle-aged woman with stern-looking glasses. She welcomes us in, takes us to a consulting room, asks me to sit on the examination couch. She looks into my eyes with a light, examines my head - there's a sensitive bump there - and asks me questions. My name. I don't know. What day it is. I don't have a clue. How many fingers she holds up. Three - nothing wrong with my eyesight. If I can remember _anything_ \- no. Army, and desert. That's it.

 

 

_The examination brings both relief and frustration. Physically, there's nothing to worry overmuch about- you've suffered a mild concussion, but there's no signs of anything more critical. I'm to keep you close for observation for the next few days. Like that would even be up for debate... As for your memory, there's nothing to be done for it. It could come back in a few hours, a few years, or never. Thank you very much, medical science. We drive back in silence. I realize part of my frustration is coming from not being able to curl up against you. And there's nothing to be done for that, either._

 

 

So there's nothing wrong with me but she doesn't know when my memory will come back. Well that's worrying. Damn. It feels so... lost, not having anything to hold onto, no certainties, no knowledge, no basis. I guess I'll have to rely on you to fill me in, but I'm not sure I trust you - you're the manipulative type if ever I saw one. "So... tell me about me. Who am I? Colonel Sebastian Moran you say? And you call me Tiger? Where am I from? I'm English, obviously - but otherwise? Can you tell me anything?" I realize I sound pleading - well no wonder. I'm asking you to give me - myself.

 

 

_I turn back to you. Poor Tiger... this must be difficult. I can't imagine what it would feel like to- no. Best not to go there, Jim. "I'll show you your file when we get home. See if anything rings a bell. You're *aristocracy*, darling... the son of Lord Moran, went to Eton, Oxford... and then quite inexplicably, joined the army... where you excelled, except for regular bouts of insolence and issues with authority." I arch an eyebrow. "Shocking, I know... Look at how well-behaved and obedient you are now. Well... in some ways you are. Perfect fucking soldier..." I lean back against the seat, and smile to myself._

 

 

Lord Moran? No, doesn't ring a bell. Eton, Oxford... Can't recall a thing. I know what they are, but I don't know my role in them - why is that? Joined the army - yes, I know that. Issues with authority - not surprised. I don't strike me as the type to take orders from barking idiots. Well-behaved and obedient?! I can't imagine… "What did I read at Oxford?" I ask, trying to get more of a grasp on my sphere of knowledge apart from shooting stuff.

 

 

_"History... but you dropped out, anyway." I turn to look at you. "I have to ask- we have something very important that needs to be done. Today. A meeting with some criminal types. Could go south, and quickly. Are you up for it, or... " I shake my head. "It's not the kind of thing that can be rescheduled. Not without potential consequences..."_

 

 

"You'll have to review your employee health policy," I smile wryly. "No time off with sick pay? What will HR say? But - yeah, if you tell me what needs doing, and it doesn't involve too much running around and whirling my head about, I should be able to help. I can still shoot straight, I'm pretty sure. What do you need?"

 

 

_"Just back me up and look properly menacing. I know you haven't forgotten how to be terrifying." I smile at you. "Most of it is on my shoulders. But if things go pear-shaped- you may need to shoot- everyone." My smile turns into a grin. "What do you say?"_

 

 

"Look threatening, shoot everyone if they don't behave - sounds good. Do you have guns? Where are mine? I assume I have some? Do I live with you? Was that my bedroom? Or - ours? Sorry, I really don't have a clue..." This must be so weird for you.

 

 

_My lips quirk. "Yes. We have guns. A lot of guns. They're back home." I watch you try to piece things together, an inch at a time. Poor Tiger... "You do live with me - you have your own bedroom, but... it's been a while since you slept in it." I stop to think about how that sounds. Almost like we're a couple. (Almost, Jim?)_

 

 

I nod. That makes sense. I guess - I guess you're my support then. You don't really seem the supportive type, but there's something there, under the surface - there are a lot of layers to you, it seems. I'm just - tired, and scared, and in pain. I put my hand on your leg, rest my head on your shoulder. Close my eyes briefly but open them again quickly because the car decides to roll upside down the moment I cut off my vision of the outside world.

 

_My eyes widen as you move towards me, and lay your head on my shoulder. I stare down at the hand on my leg. This is a surprise- given how little you remember, it's strange to see old dynamics sliding back into place. Strange, and... a relief. I rest my head against yours, and let out a long sigh._

 

 

You move your head against mine, and sigh, like you're relieved. Yes, it must have been disconcerting for you - suddenly have your lover wake up and treat you like a stranger. Though you hardly acted like an affectionate partner. You must have been stressed, but I hope you don't always take it out on me like that. You seem sweet enough now - putting your hand on mine, stroking my fingers. I feel myself relax a little bit. I don't know who I am or where I am, but I do feel that this is where I am home.

 

 

_I feel that chewing sensation again... worry. I shouldn't be asking this of you... should I? I should ask someone else instead, let you rest? But in a potentially life-or-death situation, there's no one else I would have backing me up. It's unthinkable. But - you seem OK with being asked. And why wouldn't you? You're a soldier to the bitter end. *My* soldier... I'm feeling sensations creeping in... warmth in my chest, a warm glow around my heart. Best put a stop to this, before things get... ???_

 

 

You fidget underneath me, involuntarily, it seems. Your left hand joins your right and you play with my fingers. You seem nervous - why? I turn my hand around, lace my fingers through yours, give your hand a reassuring squeeze - it's alright, James. It will be alright. I'll make sure of it.

I wonder if I always feel so protective of you - probably, if I'm your second-in-command and your lover.

 

 

_I... this is not the direction I saw things going. I have no fucking idea what's going on with the New York situation, and all I can focus on is the feeling of your hand on mine. I shake myself. Back to business. "So. We have a few hours until the meeting. So you'll be able to rest until then. It would be helpful to see if you can remember anything before that, but if not, I guess we're going in blind. Basically, if you did your job well, then- everything will go smoothly. If there were any fuck-ups, well-" I shake my head. "We'll find out quickly. Like immediately." I squeeze your hand. "If you're not well enough, I- can call someone else." I search your face anxiously._

 

 

 _Aw_ \- that's sweet of you boss, but your face expresses clearly that you want the job done well, and I'm the man to do that. So I'm not sending you anywhere with a lesser man.

I wish I could remember what you are so anxious about to know, though. "Can you tell me anything about the job I was doing before and which may or may not have succeeded? Anything that might jog my memory?"

 

 

_"We've reached an agreement with a few crime organizations in New York - joint task, very unusual. That's why things are so... delicate. The top brass are meeting us today. Mainly this is about gun-running, but obviously we have our fingers in a lot of different pies." I snort quietly. "Sound familiar at all?"_

 

 

"Nope, sorry." I can see you're disappointed, but at least you don't look as exasperated as earlier. "So what was I doing... last night? This morning? Any idea how I could have got hurt? How I got back... home?" It still seems weird to call it home. But it must be.

 

 

_Images of last night come crashing through my mind. "Last night, we were... together." The crack of a whip, the sound of your cries... a smile plays on my lips. "This morning, you were supposed to be checking in briefly with all the individual players, getting a sense of how things were going to go, if anyone was getting cold feet, or any stupid ideas... and then doing some recon to see if anything funny was going on - if they were trying to pull a fast one..." I shake my head. "The only people who could verify what happened are the New York bosses... I don't think we should ask them, do you?" I rolled my eyes. "As for how you got home, I have no fucking idea... I'm just glad you did." I squeeze your hand, suddenly overcome by how things may have gone if you hadn't._

 

 

The way you say 'together', the way your eyes briefly dilate before you're back to business, tells me how we were together... and I wish I could remember. I feel something stir inside me, and I want to know it, want to know what it's like to be with you, handsome little fucker with all the layers...

Recon, New Yorkers, it doesn't ring a bell; I try to imagine American accents, but no memories triggered, and to be honest, it's not the most important thing on my mind right now. I don't care so much about how I got hurt. What I'd like to work out is how I can feel better.

I lean over and kiss you.

 

 

_Suddenly, you're kissing me, and - something comes over me. Not having been able to do what I want, not knowing if I ever *could* again... I kiss you back hungrily, slip my tongue into your mouth - lightly at first, teasing. Then a little deeper. And then deeper still..._

 

 

Hmmm, you're a good kisser. My head pounds and I can't close my eyes though I really want to, but that feels - great. It feels right. Like this is what I do, what I always do, what I'm meant to do. I moan into your mouth, with relief, longing, desire. Grab the back of your head, pull you closer, curl my tongue around yours. I can't wait to get home...

 

 

_I move my hands to your face, and kiss you fiercely. When you moan, it's not long before I'm unbuckling my seat belt, climbing on to you and straddling you. I moan as I feel your lips on mine. I press my forehead to yours. "Almost home, Tiger. Need some help remembering why you stopped sleeping in your own room?"_

 

 

"Fuck, _yes_ ," I gasp, as I feel your erection through your suit, touching mine. Fuck, you're hot - damn, I hit the jackpot there. I look forward to exploring your body. I hope you won't be too disappointed with me not knowing exactly what you like, but it will be fun discovering... I grasp my arms around your back, pulling you tighter, damn, this car better get us there _fast_ or it's not going to be decent any more.

 

 

_I bite your lip gently, and tug on it. Then I lick your lips, and stare down at you. We're only a minute away, not enough time to get into anything... I breathe out slowly. "Tiger... I'm going to give you a crash course on what we like to do. Think you can keep up?" I smile at you, sharp as a knife._

 

 

"Mmm..." I whisper. Good idea, that way I don't have to stumble around and find what you like. God, that body under that suit - it's perfect, muscular, lithe, moving with such precision, I can't wait to feel it naked against me. I wonder if I usually top or bottom. I have no idea what I prefer - this is so weird. Anything will be good with you - I just want to rip every stitch off you and devour you.

 

 

_Almost home... I realize I can't show you *everything* we like to do. Not if you're concussed, and need to conserve your strength for tonight's meeting/shootout. Even as we're kissing, I'm going through a list of things I can and can't do, rejecting most as being too traumatizing for your current state. This does tie my hands, Tiger... but I'm sure I can come up with something that will give us both pleasure. We pull up to the curb, and I open the door. I look at you seductively, and lick my lips. "Home sweet home."_

 

 

My headache is completely forgotten as I follow you into the lift, grasping you, kissing your neck, cupping my hands around your perfect buttocks, panting in your ear. "Tell me. Tell me what you like. Tell me what we do. I can't fucking wait... You're so bloody hot... I want to do anything and everything with you."

 

 

_I push you firmly against the wall, taking care not to slam you as I normally would. I lick your neck hard, and lick it again. I look at you like I want to devour you- and I do. If I could do what I wanted, I would be biting you, clawing you, licking your blood... but I'll be good, my poor wounded Tiger. I just need to show you... you're *mine*._

 

 

You're on me in a second, and I pull my head back, exposing my neck to you - you look at me with hunger in your eyes and for a moment I want you to bite me, to eat me up whole, your eyes are large and dark and I could lose myself in those, I'd do _anything_ those eyes ask... God...

When the lift stops we stumble out, you open the door, and we're inside, finally; I grab your tie, push you against the wall, push my mouth on you, hard, demanding and gaining entrance. "Fuck, I want you..." I pant.

 

 

_"Patience, Tiger," I chide, but I realize I'm panting too. For a moment, I enjoy the feeling of you overpowering me - kissing me, pressing your hard, strong body against me. But if I let it go too far... you won't know how things are, how things need to be. Part of me just wants to keep kissing you, letting things unfold... but the bigger part of me pushes this longing aside, and gets to work. I push you back. "You want to know what we do, what I like? Come with me..." And I take your hand, and lead you up the stairs._

 

 

I follow you up the stairs, feasting my eyes on your bottom moving in those tight, tight trousers... You lead me into the bedroom, and I resist the urge to throw you onto the bed and jump you. Damn, I do hope we have a lot of sex, you just... ooze sexuality from every pore, your body moving so confidently, your musical voice, your deep dark eyes... You're going to show me what we do, and I can't wait - I don't care what you like, I'll do anything, anything, just let me get those clothes off you...

 

 

_I pull my blazer off slowly, and drape it over a chair. "Tiger, there's a lot to learn. But you're not strong enough yet for everything. We have to go slow... I can do that." I stand still, drinking you in with my eyes. "Let's start by taking off those clothes for me..."_

 

 

Your eyes sweep over me and I'm surprised my clothes don't spontaneously burst into flames in their hurry to get off me, ashamed to be hiding what you want to see. I look into your eyes, so hungry yet so calm and collected. I swallow, pull my shirt over my head, sit down on a chair to pull off my boots and socks, undo my belt, my trousers, slip them down, with my pants. You keep looking at me, not moving. I stand before you, completely naked. I don't move - something in your eyes tells me not to, just to wait what happens next.

 

 

_"Lie down, Tiger..." I croon, not moving. When you stretch out on the bed, I drink in the sight- the long length of your body, your strong chest and arms...and further down... your muscular thighs, and the magnificence of your cock. My eyes close briefly. Get it together, Moriarty... My eyes open, and I unknot my tie, and come towards you with a smile._

 

 

Yes, undo that tie, and the rest... Oh god touch me, come over here, grab me, kiss me, _please_... You're smiling as you're walking towards me, and I see the smile of a cobra immobilizing its prey before devouring it, and I am like a deer in headlights, I am caught in the beam of your eyes, I couldn't move now, I dare hardly _breathe_ \- fuck, how do you do that? How do you paralyze me with just a smile and those eyes? God, those eyes...

 

 

_There's that look... there's my darling, deadly Tiger. I almost want to weep with relief. *Jesus*, Moriarty... what's come over you?? I shake myself, and breathe deeply. I unbutton my shirt as I slowly move towards you._

_"Tiger... you're going to keep your hands at your sides, unless I say otherwise. Got it? And if you're good..." A smile spreads across my face._

 

 

What... no touching? But... I _need_ to touch - how could I not touch that smooth, perfect alabaster skin that's being teasingly revealed button by button. Not grasp that raven-black hair to kiss you deeply. Fuck, you're mad... But yes - your voice - I couldn't argue with that voice. Fuck. No wonder you run a bloody empire. You have that trick from the Bene Gesserit in Dune. You can make people obey by doing something with your voice... and your eyes... and you're getting close, and your smile makes me hold my breath, held in between space and time, not moving, not blinking, hardly even daring existing, until you tell me how.

 

 

_There's desperation in your eyes. I know, Tiger... all things in good time. First you have to know who you belong to. I climb onto you, straddling you. I feel your erection under me, feel your hips moving against me. Your hands are curled into fists._

_"Good..." I breathe. "Very good." I take one hand and place it against my cheek, turn my head to plant a kiss on your palm. Then I firmly push it down over your head. Loop my tie around your wrist, and through the bed frame. Once you're secured I take your other hand and kiss the palm, flicking my tongue against it._

_"Anything you'd like to do with this hand before it's not an option?" I whisper._

 

 

You're tying me to the bed and my training and my sense of self-preservation scream at me that this man is _dangerous_ , that I don't know him, that he is a viper, a shark, and I'm letting myself be immobilized, helpless against whatever he'll do, and he _will_ tear me to shreds, because he's a rapacious predator, it's plain to see, and what the fuck am I thinking? And I acknowledge that my common sense has a good point, but Parliament will ignore it for now, because nothing you could do to me would be worse than not having you do it to me.

My cock strains to grow even harder than it is when you lick my palm. Your question - yes, god, yes... "Can I touch you?" I whisper, desperation audible even to me.

 

 

_Fuck, yes... I clench my jaw. There seems to be a war between two sides of me - Moriarty, who needs to be in control, and always calls the shots... and Jim, who just wants to keep kissing you, and feel your hands anywhere you want to put them. What's going on? Your amnesia is messing with my head, and... that's not going to be good for treating you gently. I breathe in deeply. I know I should deny you... but I find myself saying, "Go on... touch me, Tiger..."_

 

 

I'm trembling with relief at my request being granted. Common sense is still shouting at me but I'm shutting the door on it. I've survived being with you up till now, unless you're lying about that, and I don't believe that. I don't... trust you, exactly, but I don't care what happens as long as it involves you touching me. The worst thing you could do to me now would be to walk away - I don't care what else you do, really, I don't. I am so glad I get to touch you though, I need to, want to feel every bit of you, too many clothes still, I touch your cheek, your neck, slide my hand under your open shirt to touch your shoulder, so perfectly tautly muscled, glide over your vest, your hip, slide over your thigh to your knee, and up again on the inner thigh, to feel your erection, your comforting erection, showing that you want me as much as I want you. I stroke it, in reverence, once, then, looking into your eyes, move my hand over my head in readiness for your constraint.

 

 

_Relief floods through me. I don't know if I could have brought myself to do it, and I don't understand... I don't *understand*! What's affecting me so much? Something about... you not knowing who you are, not knowing you belong to me... I can't have it. You are mine, it has to be so - and thank god on some level, you understand this. Only there is no god, there's only me, and obviously I left my mark on you, because you know it even without your goddamn memory. I take your hand almost reverently, and gently but firmly slide the tie around your wrist, pulling on the silk until your hand is brought to the same level as the other. Tiger secured. I look down at you, satisfied._

_"Does any of this feel familiar?" I ask breathily, and grind against your cock._

 

 

"Ghnhmgh," I manage. When you stop your grind against my cock and I think I can articulate again, I reflect - does it?

"Yes and no," I answer truthfully. "I can't recall this happening before at all, but it just feels… right. I... I never thought I would... I don't know. I don't - know." It's so frustrating, I nearly end in a sob. I have no idea if this is what I've been doing all my life, or if it's something that we've been recently experimenting with, but with your eyes like that and your voice… I can't imagine doing anything else. "It feels natural."

 

 

_I find my hand moving to your face, caressing your cheek. I find myself saying, "It's OK, Sebastian... this is only temporary. It'll come back, don't worry..." What the bloody hell... is this how you dominate someone, Jim? Well, yes, I argue back. Alternating kindness and cruelty. Classic. Only thing is... I couldn't possibly be cruel to you when you're feeling so sad and lost. Could I? *No*, I bark at myself. *Back off and leave him alone*. I stare down at you in confusion. Well, now what? I keep stroking your face, because I don't know what else to do. *Shit*..._

 

 

You are looking at me and for a moment the Stare of Coercion falls away, and you look suddenly ten years younger, so sweet, actually caring, and I find myself gulping at the sight, wanting to kiss you so bad, you look so beautiful and even slightly... lost? Like you don't know what to do any more. That surge of protectiveness comes back and if I weren't tied down I'd have scooped you up and cuddled you, and that's an insane thought about a man who I was convinced was going to eat me up raw ten seconds ago.

I need to reassure you - "James. Please. Do whatever you normally do. If anything is going to bring me back, it's feeling familiar things with intensity. And if I like it normally, I'll like it now. And if I don't like it, I'll tell you. Just... please." _Please touch me_.

 

 

_If you don't like it, you'll just tell me? That simple... Oh, you really don't have a sense of what 'normal' was, do you - sweet boy. You really are... you're reassuring *me*, even though you're the one in distress? Jesus, maybe you *do* have a sense of our normal, after all. I stare down at you - everything I planned to do has been shot to hell. I don't feel your hands on me, I don't feel you kissing me, and I need- I need- I clench my jaw and get up. Walk over to the chair. Pick up my blazer. Pull out a switchblade from the inside pocket. Walk back to the bed. Sit on you again. Hold up the knife, and release the blade._

_"Do what I normally do, you said?" I ask, eyes darkening._

 


	2. As You Were, Darling

For a moment you stare down at me in confusion, like you don't know what to do, like you've got your Tiger all trussed up and now forgot what you wanted him for in the first place. Well I'm sure I can remind you, but then you get up, get your jacket, and I momentarily panic - _you're leaving_ \- but then you get out a knife and get back to the bed, sit on top of me, and switch it open. Your eyes are back to their inscrutable depth as you look at me and ask your question. I find my mouth is dry - I try to swallow, to speak, but barely manage over a croak - "Is... that where the scars come from?"

 

 

_"Some are from work you do for me... some are from me..." I say, watching you closely. "I'm not a nice man or a gentle lover, Sebastian...and we have an understanding about that, but you don't remember it, do you?" I look into your eyes, and see alarm… confusion… fear. That's smart._

_I'm filled with turmoil. I have to do something..._

_"*You will*," I say, closing my eyes briefly before leaning forward with the knife. I slash at the tie, cutting through your bonds._

_"But not today. Not like this..." I pull your hands free from the headboard and the ruined tie, throwing it to the floor. Then I put my hands on either side of your head, and look down at you._

_You wanted to touch me, Tiger?" I swoop down over you and kiss you fiercely._

 

 

You're not a gentle lover. OK. _Now_ you tell me, now I'm tied down. Not that I couldn't get out of this tie - but I find I don't want to. Common sense is still trying to batter down the door into my brain, but I find myself - fascinated. Wanting to know how it feels, wanting to look into those deep dark eyes filled with lust while you torture my body. Wow. I'm quite fucked up. I wonder if I've ever tried therapy. But - I can't deny that it's fucking scary - that is a knife, a good knife, a damn sharp knife, and whatever you are going to do with it, which I don't _know_ , is going to hurt. And... you might have warned me first.  


And then scary motherfucker is gone, and good grief, how many people are you?! and you release me and start kissing me. I am completely gobsmacked, don't respond for a bit - my brain has short-circuited from the rollercoaster it's just been on.

 

 

_There's a lot going on in your head... I should have anticipated this would be too much for you when you're already dealing with memory loss, and whatever caused it in the first place... physical trauma? (Emotional trauma??)_

_You're not kissing back. I break off the kiss, and put my hand on your face._

_"It's too much, isn't it... Do you need some time to- I don't know what people do?? Sleep? Talk? Tea?" I sit up, feeling perplexed._

 

 

"I'm - no- I'm sorry," I manage. "It's just - that was a bit much... I mean - you're so fucking hot, and your eyes... the way you looked at me... I just... I couldn't move, and it was... exciting, in a way, but it was also fucking scary - you could have done _anything_ , seriously, when you came out with that knife, part of me was thinking I should get out, but by far the biggest part _wanted_ it, wanted to feel what it was like to be under your knife, wanted you to hurt me, any way you wanted - and then that scared me even more. I'm... I believe you when you say this is what we do. I've seen the scars, and I've seen the way my body responds. But it is a bit... I'd have preferred if you'd told me. But I might have called you mad then. I'm glad you showed me. But... I'm sorry James. I'm just... confused. But. I do _so_ want to touch you still. And I want you to touch me. And... I don't know. I don't know what I want. I want you to do what you want. It's - I don't know what to think."  


I'm not making any sense. I wish I knew what I wanted. I know nothing.

 

 

_I smile at you wryly. "I'm not going to 'do what I want', if you're feeling like that. But I think I know - something that might help. It's helped before..." I look into your blue eyes, feeling fear rise up in me before I squelch it. I slide down next to you, wrap my arms around you, and sigh._

_"And Sebastian? It's Jim..."_

 

 

"Jim..." that name... that name feels _right_. It fits you much better than James. I turn to you, now looking so sweet and... _nice_ , with your arms around me; it's impossible to recognize the fierce predator that was here just five minutes ago. I move over, wrap my arms around you, kiss you chastely on the mouth.

"What do you think might help, Jim?"

 

 

_"Just this," I sigh and nestle against you. I stroke your cheek, as I listen to you breathe. "I'm not going to say this happens all the time, but- when it does, it's... well, it's needed," I finish softly._

 

 

"You look very sweet like this," I say looking at your face. "You have so many faces - and you change from one second to the next. So tell me - what am I like?" I stroke your face, enjoy you stroking mine. The earlier urgency has dissipated a bit - I am happy to just lie here for a bit and caress you, before we proceed to more, which I'm confident will happen, despite your chameleonic nature.

 

 

_“Sweet?" I repeat, and choke out a laugh. "That's going a bit far. *Changeable*… now that's an appropriate adjective." I'm enjoying the stroking of my face more than I let on._

_"And as for you... where on earth to begin?" I run my fingers through your hair._

 

 

"Well, wherever, really..." I say, enjoying the stroking, and exploring you with my fingertips. "I know _nothing_. Anything you tell me is going to be valuable. I - don't know what my character is like. What I do every day. What my hobbies are. What we like doing when you're not cutting me open. Anything." I am starting to sound desperate again - it really is quite scary being faced with a black hole where your mind should be.

 

 

_"Well... you're remarkable at killing and violence..." I say with genuine admiration. "I've never seen your equal. But you probably already have a sense of that. You want to know less professional things, yes?" I touch your face thoughtfully. "You like to read, in your spare time - fiction. Sometimes spy novels, and sometimes loftier fare... you were an Eton brat, after all." I nudge you in the shoulder. "Although for the son of a Lord, I've never met anyone who hates the upper classes more..."_

 

 

Killing and violence - yes, I can see that. There's a core of me that's both red hot and ice cold and full of aggression - I can see it would need a regular outlet. No wonder I joined the army. I like reading - OK, makes sense. I hate the upper classes - yes, I do. Thinking of them makes the red hot stuff bubble.

"Thanks, that's helpful. And it all rings bells." I keep touching you - mapping you with my fingers. You are so beautiful. "So how did I end up with you? And why did I leave the army?"

 

 

_"Well, I never got the full story from you, but it was 'mutually agreed' that it was the right time for you to be honourably discharged. You had a stellar record, bu-u-ut… Colonel Moran always had issues with authority," I sing. Amusement lights up your eyes. Jesus. I feel like I could do this all day - tell you stories about yourself. Why am I not focused on New York??_

 

 

"If I have issues with authority, why did I shack up with a domineering bastard like yourself?" I smile.

 

 

_"*There's* a question..." I say, grinning madly. "I believe you have issues with *idiots* in positions of authority... you do the math, darling..."_

 

 

"Mmm... you're a clever domineering bastard?" I smile, moving closer to you. That grin is infectious - I find myself grinning madly and just wanting to kiss that mouth, run my tongue over those teeth... I cuddle up closer.

 

 

_"Oh, I think you'll find me a bit more than *clever*, my dear..." I pin you with a stare, and you just seem more fascinated. My my, Sebastian - I don't know what's happening here, but suddenly your little bout of amnesia is becoming a very interesting experience. And you know how I feel about *interesting*… my hand moves to the back of your head, and I plant a small kiss on your lips._

 

 

I want you, you more than clever domineering little fucker... I open my mouth and run my tongue over your lips, gently asking for and gaining entry, pull you closer in my arms and move my lower body against yours. Physical urges once again are taking precedence over mental ones...

 

 

_A feeling of triumph surges through me, as you're kissing me again - your little freak-out is falling aside for now, perhaps to be picked up later. All I know is, right now, your arms are surrounding me, your legs are sliding against mine, your tongue is pushing into my mouth, and soon, *soon*, you will be mine again, Tiger. I sigh against your mouth, and kiss you back hungrily._

 

 

You're up for it, thank god - I realize I have no idea about - anything, really… but I don't know how you are sexually - are you eager, are you a once a month type of guy, can you get off without making me bleed - well, I guess I'll find out. For now, you seem happy enough - that sigh followed by that kiss is enough to drive me wild.

"Fuck, I want you..." I moan, "Tell me - please - tell me how to... "

 

 

_So eager to learn, so eager to *please*… desire flares up in me. I dare say I've trained you well, and your natural submissive streak is a thing of beauty._

_"Mmmm... so you want to know how to please me, Tiger? Just keep doing what you're doing," I breathe. "Normally it's me taking the lead, as you've probably guessed - but right now, I find myself wanting to just see how things unfold from here. Listen if I tell you to do something, Sebastian... but for now just follow your desires, and see where they take us." Oh, this is far more interesting than playing the usual games... what will Tiger do now, I wonder with fascination._

 

 

You're giving me free rein and it's confusing - I don't know who I am, don't know who you are; all I know is that you're dangerous and changeable which is a _really_ bad combination to risk pissing off. But you say 'listen when I tell you to do something', and you don't seem the shy type - so let's just go with what I want. What _do_ I want? Good question - with the world open in front of me and the sexiest man I've ever seen in my arms the possibilities seem endless and that in itself is paralyzing. I start by kissing you deeply, wrapping my leg around you, rubbing my hands all over you - god your body is _perfect_ , isn't it? So taut and muscular and pleasingly proportioned and your cock is a thing of beauty...

 

 

_You seem confused at first, and I worry that being off the leash will just upset you. But then you're gazing at me and your natural instincts kick in, and mmmm... good... *very good*… your hands are everywhere, my nerve endings are shrieking with pleasure... it's so rare that I let you just have what you want- perhaps I'm not always as clever as I think. Your hand is running over my cock, and I groan with pleasure._

 

 

That groan drives me wild. You don't strike me as the type to take - and I realize I don't want to fuck you. I want you, but I want to _feel_ you, I want to feel you all over my body, I want you to possess me - interesting. However, you seem to really enjoy letting me devour you too and I do want to feel all of _your_ body as well, fuck, why can't we merge together; I roll you on your back and hover over you, kissing your neck passionately, sucking and nibbling, biting your earlobe, sighing softly in your ear, "You are the sexiest man on earth - how did I get so lucky?"

_I smile at you- a sly, lazy smile. "There's another fine question... you could say there are no accidents in this world, Sebastian. Let's just say I became aware of your freelance work, and made sure our paths crossed... and once they did... well, you thought you were pursuing me, darling. But I knew you'd be mine the moment I saw you." You're looking down at me with fascination, and I pull your head down to kiss your lips gently, before bringing it down firmly to my neck again._

You're not afraid to steer - good. I continue my work on your neck, moving to the other side, licking, kissing, sucking, nibbling. Making my way downward over the collar bone, to your sculpted chest, kissing my way around, finding a nipple, gently biting it, sucking it between tensed lips, letting my hands roam over hips, thighs, balls, cock.

 

 

 _My breath catches in my throat. Bloody hell, I need to let you off the leash more often... you seem more than happy to follow directions, but your exploration of my body is... *delightful*._  
  


_"Mmm... Tiger..." I moan. "Keep doing what you're doing, darling... it's delicious..."_

 

 

Good to hear, and thanks for the feedback, boss. I'll keep it up then - it's definitely no hardship to explore this perfect body. I move to the other nipple, give it a similar treatment - try biting a bit harder, just on the other side of hurting you. Take your arm - god I love arms like this, muscular but not bulky, with the veins standing up on the lower arm and hands, god, such sexy hands... I kiss your palm, lick my way up to your finger, take the tip in my mouth, gently sucking while my erection rubs against yours, a promise of delights to come. Kiss each one of your fingertips, and make my way down to your chest again.

 

 

_Desire is flooding me, and even though your ministrations are gorgeous and I feel myself dreaming of them going on forever, the dominating part of me wants what it wants. And this is never questioned. I run my fingers through your hair, then gently but firmly push your head down (being careful of jarring motions), all the way down to my twitching cock. You look up at me and I smile - I love that look of yours, when you look to me above all other things - even your own instincts. I push your head down gently and sigh as your lips slide around my cock._

 

 

Oh okay - you're not the prolonging anticipation type then - fair enough. I've been wanting a close look at that gorgeous cock anyway. Interesting that I don't know my own fucking name, but I'm perfectly aware of what to do with a cock - though I can't remember learning how. I slide around the tip, moving back up, licking around it, building the pressure between my lips and my tongue, before closing my mouth around it again and sliding deeper down.

 

 

_I groan as you lick and suck me, your mouth sliding up and down, as your hand caresses my balls. There's something wonderful about this situation, darling - an hour ago, you didn't know me, didn't trust me, were cursing me out and having violent outbursts- and it didn't take long at all for you to be naked in my bed, looking to me for direction, and blowing me - oh, I could *not* be more delighted with you, Sebastian. Too bad the amnesia can't be turned on and off, with a switch._

_*God*, could I be more of a psychopath? I manage to keep from giggling._

 

 

You groan and sigh and it makes me feel on top of the world - that's me doing that, making the sexiest man in London lose control by my mouth, my hands, my tongue. I look up at you and see you look down at me amused - amused? Well that was not the reaction I was hoping for. Shit, am I fucking up? Are you taking the piss? Are we not together after all, are you just using me to have a laugh? I pull myself off against the pressure of your hand - "Something funny?"

 

 

_"Well, it's an odd situation, isn't it?" I grin at you. "You don't know me at all, and yet we've fallen into bed with each other, with the same intensity we always do. We're like magnets, you and I." I ruffle your hair with something resembling affection. "When your memory returns, you'll know what I mean. Now- as you were, darling."_

 

Hold on. I'm not your bloody fucktoy, James Moriarty. And I don't make a habit of sucking people's cocks unless I choose to, rather than them ordering me around. Well - maybe I do, but that habit stops here.

"It is an odd situation, and it's bloody confusing," I say, leaning on an elbow and ignoring your hand nudging me towards your cock. "And you're a hot little fucker, but a bit too pushy, thank you very much. I assume I don't get off on just sucking your cock, do I?"

 

 

_"No, Sebastian- you get off on a wide range of activities." I regard you with curiosity. "I didn't mean anything by it, darling. This is - just our dynamic. It's just- *me*. I guess it's a strange thing to just take someone's word about what you like... but you obviously don't - didn't- have an issue with it, if you've been working for me for 2 years, and shagging me left, right and centre for the last 6 months." I arch an eyebrow. "In fact, you didn't just *not* have an issue with it... it was part of what got you off."_

 

 

Shagging you left right and centre sounds about right. But I am not so sure about the dynamics. "I don't know... Doesn't seem like the kind of thing I'd... you would... _one_ would just do. Sounds all awfully altruistic to me. I just suck your cock and get off on that? What about my cock? Does that get sucked? What do you do to me to get me off? Do I get off on the cutting? What?"

I see you scowl and I realize that as pillow talk goes, it's probably not the best, but... "I don't know what to do, Jim. And sucking your cock, hot as it is, seems a bit one-sided. I'm happy to do it for a bit, but then what? Why don't you tell me what we did last night and we'll try that again?"

 

 

_"Did I say you only suck my cock? Shall I ask for playback or a transcript? I said *wide range of activities*…" I glare at you. "That includes me sucking you off, me fucking you, and … well the list goes on and on, but I don't think you want to hear everything right now. And if you're unsure about this dynamic, then I can say with the utmost authority that you won't be in the mood for what we did last night." I laugh, despite myself. "Although it was a bloody opera of pleasure and pain, if I do say so myself."_

 

 

That sounds... intriguing. I find my cock twitching at you mouthing the words pleasure and pain. I move up to have my head at the same latitude as yours again, stroke your face, to show I bear you no ill will - "I'm sorry. I am just... confused. And... insecure about what to do, I guess, and then when I saw you looking at me amused, I felt... like maybe you were taking the piss, were just using me, and I got pissed off. I'm happy to suck your cock - it's a beautiful cock. But tell me. Tell me what we did last night. I'd like to know. And tell me how typical it is of what we do. I... feel I really want you, but I don't know how to get to you, if that makes sense?" Fuck, I wish my fucking memory would come back. I want to throw you over and fuck that smirk off your face, I want to fall to my knees and worship your cock, I want you to use that knife on me, I want to use that knife on you - but that's not part of the deal, you have few scars, and those from proper fights. I just... don't know.

 

 

_Poor Sebastian, so confused, so lost... I find my hand floating up to your face, and cradling your cheek. "Darling, it's fine. I've never had to deal with memory loss, and I think you can probably guess empathy is not really my strong suit. I'm- trying to be considerate, I really am." I press my forehead to yours. "Sebastian... telling you about last night would be like running a marathon before you started training. It's- advanced, I guess you could say. And I think what you need now is... the basics? Just physical connection, and pleasure and..." I look at you, and trail off. What is that look in your eyes...?_

 

 

"I've lost my memory, I have not suddenly become a blushing virgin again," I burst out. "I want, my body wants - something, but I can't work out what. I want _you_ , but I don't know how. If we'd already worked it out - why are you keeping it from me? Show me what I want, Jim," I plead, passionately. I _need_ it, and I don't know what 'it' is, and you're not fucking helping.

 

 

_I stare at you, unsure what to do... well, this is first. Obviously. Well, Moriarty - use your genius, and try to come up with a solution for *this*. Obviously, we need to take five - this is getting out of control. I'm about to suggest we go down to the living room, when I see your eyes pleading with me. Something is unleashed in me and I find myself lunging up, throwing you down to the bed, and pinning down your wrists._

_"You want me to show you?" I growl. "I'll show you. I'm not tying you up, because you're going to keep your fucking hands *right here*. Got it, soldier?" I look at you intently. "Well?"_

 

 

Common sense, self-preservation, and training are all jumping up and lodging protests again. Predictable. Well, common sense and self-preservation's voices are rather weak - and training is instinctual but subject to being overruled by the intellect if circumstances warrant, and I decide that circumstances warrant. More precisely, the sudden violent flow of blood from my brain to my cock decides. Your eyes are doing that thing again - but I see something underneath it now. You are making my limbs weak, but there's concern there as well - and that clinches the deal. Despite _knowing_ that it's the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas, I decide to trust you. And I relax. And submit. Go ahead, Jim - show me who you are. Who I am. Who we are.  


"Got it, Sir," I state.

 

 

_"Good. Now I was more than willing to go easy on you, since you were obviously in a state..." I lick all the way up from your chin, over your lips, along your cheek right up to your eyebrow. I chew on the corner of your brow, and give it a sharp little nip. "...but you just kept *insisting*, Sebastian..." I move to your ear lobe, licking and nipping down to your neck. I sink my teeth into your quivering neck, and move my hand to keep your head still._

 

 

 _Fuck_. Part of me is shouting that I'm baring my neck to a rattlesnake, but I tell it I'm more than happy if the rattlesnake comes in such a delightful package and has such exquisite bites. It makes me shiver, the bite definitely on this side of pain, but I find I relish it, coming from you - and I get a glimpse of what you are, who you are, and it's only fleeting, but - fuck. You're _immense_. You're - God. Quite literally. It's gone now, but the flash of memory is leaving me with gooseflesh all over, and I gasp.

 

 

_Relishing your gasp, I pull my head up and look down at you. "You wanted to know what you want, how to be with me... Let's begin..." I kiss you possessively - and as you submit to it, I push my tongue into your mouth._

 

 

I let you in - my body remembers, even if my mind doesn't. _This is it. This is who I am. This is what I do. This is what I was made for._ Bloody hell. Where did that come from? This doesn't sound quite healthy. I really should look into that therapy. But - I couldn't get out of your embrace if I wanted to, and I most definitely don't want to. I kiss you back passionately, eager to show my appreciation, to show you that this is good, I'm happy, do what you want, boss...

Good grief. How am I still alive?

 

 

 _I'm revelling in your surrender, and it's intoxicating. I had been enjoying our cuddling and kissing and sucking before, but this... this fills me with adrenaline, power, desire..._  
  


_"Lesson one," I drawl out. "Pain can be the most delicious source of pleasure..."  I rake my nails down your back._

 

I moan at that. I can see that. I must have suffered quite a bit of pain, judging from the state of my body, but this is... pain delivered by _you_ , and it's ecstatic rather than abhorrent. The first instinct is to flinch away from it, naturally, but the surrender into it makes it into something magnificent, grander than a caress, more profound, and when your fingers stop their fiery descent I find myself desperately waiting for more.

 

 

_I smile down at you, pleased at your response. "Do you agree, Sebastian?" I kiss you again, and this time rake your chest. God, I could tear you to ribbons if I don't stop myself- go slow, Moriarty... I look down at you quivering with pleasure, and I lick the red stripes on your chest._

 

 

"Yes... " I whisper, "God, _yes_..." The scratches down my chest are perfection, sheer perfection, painful but not unbearable, and your eyes, your smile, your dilated pupils, your moist lips, god, you are sex and cruelty and passion and beauty personified.

 

 

_"There's my Tiger," I purr at you. "And you're already getting a glimpse of Lesson Two. Submission sets you free." I weave my fingers into your hair, and carefully pull your head back to expose your throat. I lick hard down your throat, and run my teeth against it. "Do you want to find out what pleasure lies on the other side, darling?" I chuckle. "Well you know, deep down. Do you want to become reacquainted with surrender?"_

 

 

"Yes..." You could have asked if I wanted to be skinned alive and I'd have said yes, if you'd asked it in that tone of voice, that voice which is completely in control, which brooks no argument, but which is also filled with desire, with lust, and I couldn't deny you what you long for. Damn, this goes deep. My intellectual brain is gaping at my lizard brain with astonishment, but I'm too far gone to pay it much heed. Yeah, I'm probably insane, you probably are too, and god, we're perfect together.

"Show me, Sir... please..."

 

 

_"Show you?" I ask, all innocence. "That almost sounded like telling me what to do." I chuckle at your expression. "You get a pass today." I wind my hand more tightly through your hair. "Don't let it happen again..." I whisper, yank you up to meet my mouth, and kiss you hard._

 

 

I melt into the kiss, let out a soft moan - fuck, I do believe you, you are definitely right about us having been together for a while, there’s no way you could push all my buttons so precisely otherwise - I didn’t even know there were buttons like that. I feel myself surrendering; I didn’t know I did that - thought I was a big bad soldier if anything.

 

 

_I feel your body relax into submission, and I smile against your mouth. I break off the kiss, and look at you. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes- As. You. Were. *Darling*." I look down at my cock, and back to you. The smile disappears from my face. "Suck."_

 

 

Well. When you put it like that. It’s suddenly the hottest thought in the world. But I can’t suppress a small smirk at how nicely you turned that around.

I move down as you lie on your side, take hold of your cock, start sucking reverently.

 

 

_Oh, this was a very good idea, Sebastian - giving you the guided tour. And to think I considered taking you to the living room for a breather. I throw my head back as you show me just how good you are, just how much it's all coming back to you, even without your memory. I let out a contented groan, and run my hands through your golden hair._

 

 

Your groan makes me shiver, a glow of pride spreading through me at the knowledge that it’s me making you groan like that, my mouth, my tongue, who remember exactly what to do, it must be muscle memory. I redouble my efforts, determined to make you happy with me - good grief where does that come from?!

 

 

_You're working so hard, and it's so fucking good... I had just been making a point and re-establishing control, but now I'm enjoying myself. The thought that you don't know me and still feel so driven to please me... is filling me with heat, and something dangerously close to affection. I push it down, and grasp your head firmly, as you lick and suck me. "So good, Tiger..." I whisper, and close my eyes. I'll continue the lessons in just a moment... just one more moment..._

 

 

Your voice dripping down on me like nectar from the gods. How do you do those things with your voice? I would be happy to suck you until kingdom come if you keep telling me how good I am. I want nothing more than to please you and I really need my head looked at if this is what I’m like normally.

 

 

_I open my eyes to look at you, and you are unbelievably hot... You seem to sense my eyes on you, and you look up at me. You seem turned on, fascinated, and a little 'how weird is this?', which I can appreciate. Looking becomes staring, and now we're both breathing harder as we gaze at each other intently. "Get up here," I say roughly. You hesitate, and I pull you off my cock by the hair, and up towards me. "Lesson 3, and this is the most important one. Do what I say when I say it... it might not be nice, or kind, or fair, or even rational. Do it anyway. Now *come here*..." I breathe, and pull you back towards my mouth._

 

 

I feel your eyes on me and look up and... _god_. Those eyes again. They’re... pitch black, drawing me in, drowning me, losing me in their depths... You speak and it takes me a moment to realize what you’re saying, I’m so entranced, but as it finally clicks you’re already pulling me off you by my hair and I hear a small whine escape my throat, but you’re speaking wise lessons and pulling me towards you and I eagerly obey, kissing your waiting mouth passionately. _Fuck_ , sanity be damned, I’m loving this, loving this, loving you...

 

 

_*Sebastian*... your responses are so delicious... I could not be more pleased... I could not be more *turned on*... and why is *that*? I'm finding it hard to think with your mouth on mine, your tongue against mine... but I think it has something to do with... *territory*... As in *claim it*... NOW. Imagine if your memory didn't come back and you just decided to... leave? No. NO. I break off from the kiss, and look deeply into your blue eyes, gazing at me._

_"Sebastian... I think the next lesson should involve fucking you senseless. Does that seem like something you might like?" I lick the side of your face, and tug on your ear lobe with my teeth._

 

Fuck, yes, my body shouts. My cock twitches at those words, and yes, I want nothing more than for you to possess me, to take me, use me any way you could think of that would give you pleasure.

I stare at you, your face - I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to. Your gaze could cut steel.

“Yes, Jim, please... god, please fuck me...” I breathe.

_*God*, Sebastian... it takes everything I have to not just throw myself at you. I'm always 110% in control, what is it about this situation that's throwing everything off? I look into your eyes pleading with me, telling me to show you who you are, where you belong..._

_"Yes..." I breathe, as I slide my face against yours. "I will, yes..."  I bite down hard on your neck, and slowly pull your flesh with my teeth._

Oh god that’s... it hurts and it’s perfect. My body doesn’t even try to suggest resistance or avoidance; it just sinks further into your thrall. I moan in ecstasy and lean my head backwards, giving you access to my neck.

Your next bite is even harder and I shiver. “Jim... god, Jim... I love you...”


	3. Such a Sweet Psychopath

 

_White noise in my head... what did you...? *What*?? I slowly pull my teeth away from you. I look at you in complete and utter shock. There - you made the mask drop. And I don't know where I dropped it, and I... I..._

_"Sebastian..." I say, and my voice is a croak. I clear my throat, heart pounding. "Sebastian..." I try again... Jesus Christ, Jim... fucking say *something*… tell him not to be ridiculous, tell him you don't do love thank you very much, tell him... tell him..._

 

You pull away from me - what? What did I do _wrong_? I panic - you’re looking at me like you’re in a complete shock. You’re - looking scared, almost? What’s wrong?!

“Jim?” I ask, concern in my voice, my hand stroking your face. “Jim? What’s wrong, love?”

 

 

_I jerk back, as though burned. Thoughts, feelings, sensations are flying through me, out of control, so out of control... I curl my hands into fists, and move back from you quickly. I'm afraid of what I'll do, afraid of what I'll do to you, and you don't know, you don't *know*, and is it OK to punish you when you’re in distress and you have no idea, no fucking idea what you've done?? That would be cruel even for me, but... how else will you learn?? I take a deep breath, and slam the brakes hard on *everything*. You're looking at me in complete panic, and I exhale._

_"We need to have a little talk, Sebastian..." I say coolly. But inside, I'm cringing._

 

 

Damn. I did something very, very wrong, and I don’t know what but I shocked you - scared you - hurt you. Your hands are making fists and for a moment you look like you’re going to attack me and I get ready to defend, but then your face locks up, all expression gone, and you say we need to talk in a voice that couldn’t be colder. It hurts - I didn’t mean anything wrong and we were so close and now you’re miles away.

“Jim - whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I don’t know. I can’t remember. Jim. Please, don’t - don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

 

 

_Inside, I'm screaming blue murder - it isn't fair, it isn't fair that this is happening and I can't react, and why can't I react, *why* have I been so affected by you looking so sad and lost? I bring down a thick curtain on my internal rant, and clear my mind- again. OK, Moriarty- for whatever reason, you're feeling merciful because Sebastian is in this *state*- fine. Then, you have to guide him through it with a minimum of fuss and trauma._

_Can you calm the fuck down long enough to talk to him, and speak reassuringly, so he doesn't keep showing that face to me, that face that's making my heart squeeze so uncomfortably. So *unacceptably*. I'll have to assess that later, but for now- we deal with Sebastian._

_Carefully, I take your hand. "You didn't- hurt me. But I need to tell you more about our relationship, and it's very important that you understand. All right?" I nod reassuringly, and try to picture relaxing things..._

_house fires..._

_parliament buildings exploding..._

_wars between nations..._

 

You look at me for a long moment, your face unreadable. But then you take my hand - thank goodness. I was afraid you’d walk out.

You need to tell me... oh. Oh.

“Oh fuck, were we not at the I love you stage yet?! Damn. How could I know?!”

I look at you, trying to gauge your response, but your face is inscrutable.

“I... I thought - damn Jim, the way my body responds to you, the glimpse of feeling I had - I thought how madly in love with you I must be - am I not?”

 

 

_I close my eyes and clench my jaw reflexively. It's taking everything I have to not start laughing hysterically at this whole ridiculous fucking situation. *Jesus Christ*…_

_"No..." I say calmly, carefully. "We were not at the 'I love you stage'..." There's mad giggling bubbling up in me, but I don't want you to think I'm laughing at you- again. I open my eyes and watch you as I speak. "And with very good reason. I don't do love, Sebastian. I'm a psychopath. And you're not so far off from me, considering everything you do and how good you are at it. But for whatever reason, you are far more in touch with your emotions than one would expect from a sniper and assassin... so I always suspected that there were *feelings* for me, but you were wise enough not to say anything about it."_

_I sigh heavily. "Well! The cat's out of the bag... already making a mess. I can't even begin to imagine how we'll shove it back in now..."_

 

 

I’m a psychopath? Huh. I don’t... feel mad.

And... oh fuck have I been secretly pining?! But...

“Hold on. We’re psychopaths who are shagging. You suspected I had feelings for you, but I never said anything - why not? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking gorgeous - why would I be ashamed to be in love with you? And why wouldn’t you do love? I mean, if I’m a psychopath and I’m in love, couldn’t you be? And sorry, but I’ve seen the way you look at me - that’s not the face of a man who feels nothing. You showed concern, desire, and tenderness - is it so weird to assume that you love me?”

 

 

_I want to throw myself off the bed onto the floor. And then down the stairs. Maybe if I bump my head hard enough, I'll get amnesia too and forget about this whole fucking thing._

_"Sebastian..." I begin, then stare at you blankly. What you're saying... feels like an eraser for all the equations that keep my world together, and I will not allow it._

_"Yes. I'm *fucking* gorgeous. So are you, darling. So what? Physical attractiveness and sexual chemistry do not automatically equal love. As for why you would feel it, I have no fucking idea. Most psychopaths don't, not *really*… even if they establish some kind of pair bond. That's what mammals do - they connect and they shag! Some stay connected, and some move on to the next mammal. You can tart it up with a red bow and call it love, but I prefer to rise above it. I *do* rise above it," I say, raising my voice. "So whatever you think you see, you're mistaken! Expressing concern is necessary under the circumstances, because I don't want you to freak out. Desire is a chemical reaction. Showing tenderness is... the most efficient way to address someone's emotional state."_

_I realize I feel like I'm debating with you, trying to convince you... what the fuck. I don't need to *convince* you of anything!_

_I look at you, to see if you're convinced._

 

 

I can’t help but smirk at this. You are _so_ full of shit, aren’t you?

“So we have some kind of mammalian pair bond, enjoying chemical reactions, and addressing emotional states efficiently. OK. Sure. Whatever floats your boat, boss.”

I take pity on your nearly panicking look.

“I won’t say it again if it freaks you out.”

I carefully move closer, stroke your face again, lean in for a kiss.

 

_I move back from you, furious. Not the kind of furious that's dangerous, at least not yet. An unfamiliar kind of furious - hmmm. What's this? I poke at it. It makes me want to shout at you, argue, throw things, but not hurt you - too badly. Ridiculous._

_"You won't say it again if it freaks me out... Sebastian, do try to remember that I'm your employer - and oh yes, psychopath! -  and therefore a dangerous man to piss off." I glare at you, feeling strangely ineffectual at threatening you. "And wipe that smirk off your face..."_

 

 

You’re cute when you’re like this. But I do think that saying that would really be going too far.

I suppress my smirk with superhuman effort.

You’re such a sweet psychopath though... oh fuck, I can’t stop myself from grinning. I’m so dead.

“I’m sorry boss, really. And I know you’re dangerous. I can see it. But... it’s all a bit weird for me, ok? I have no memory, wake up with what I think is a massive hangover, get the sexiest man in London attacking me, taking me to a doctor, touching me, nearly fucking me, and then I need a lecture on ‘We are not in a relationship’ like we’re a couple of college kids? It’s all a bit... absurd, you have to admit.”

 

 

_I sigh in annoyance. "Absurd is one word for it. And I recognize that this situation is extenuating, and confusing for you. That's certainly why I've managed to keep my temper- *so well*," I say loudly over your protest. "You have no idea how patient I'm being, and that's infuriating too. I deserve some kind of recognition for it," I mutter. "A medal and a ceremony."  I feel a pout rising, and I grit my teeth to keep it in check._

 

 

I dive at you - you may be fast, but I’m faster. I grab you in a bear hug.

“You’re the _best_ , Boss. Perfect bedside manner. Now - didn’t you say something about a fuck, earlier?”

 

 

_I find myself grinning, and worse, I realize I've been enjoying... something... about this whole outlandish situation. Well, there's nothing to be done about it now, and I'm confident that I can put everything back in order as soon as your memory returns. But for now... I glare at you again, but I'm clearly not angry. "And didn't *you* say something about wanting to surrender?" I grab your wrists, and shove you down onto the bed._

 

That’s my psychopath... I fall back, letting you push me down, wrapping my legs around you. “I do seem to recall I did... surrender to the hottest guy I’ve ever seen - which is not saying much, considering I only recall seeing you and your driver, but at least you’re winning that comparison.”

 

 

_"Such *flattery*, Sebastian... I think you know very well I'm the hottest thing you've ever had, and will *ever* have. Now do you think can you shut that mouth of yours long enough for me to remind you?" I challenge. My hands squeeze around your wrists._

 

 

Yes, that’s better... I won’t say anything, I’m not about to make you freak out on me again... But you asked...

“I can’t wait...” I do manage to not make it sound sarcastic.

 

 

_I actually feel a sense of loss at the thought of you not mouthing off anymore... How... alarming. Well, you probably won't be able to behave for too long in your amnesiac state, so I'll make the most of your compliance for now. "Better..." I stifle a smirk. My lips meet yours and we start kissing like we've never kissed before._

 

 

Yes, keep telling yourself you’re not in love if it makes you feel better, Jim. It’s fine. It really is. Just keep kissing me like that.

I moan, moving my lower body against you, kissing you with all the zeal I have in me - as far as I’m aware you’re the only man I’ve ever kissed and I’m completely fine with that. You’re intoxicating like fine whisky - wait - whisky. I think I like whisky. Or you do. Whatever. You. You are...  god.

“Jim...”

I’m not saying anything...

 

 

_I lick your lips. "Well, that lasted a full five seconds. What part of shutting your mouth is confusing you?" I murmur. "Do I need to put something in it to keep you quiet?"_

 

 

I'm not averse to anything... my body remembers this, remembers you, remembers what it should do when you're around, which is exactly whatever the fuck you want. It's just my head that forgot...

"Whatever you want, Jim... fuck, whatever you want, I..." _love you_ \- why is it so hard not to say it?

"I'm yours... please, just... Jim..."

 

 

_*Yours*… that word. You've used it before, and I just thought 'of course'. Now... to give me that word when you don't even know... you're giving me you, and you don't know who you are. But *I* know who you are. And I'll keep it safe, keep you safe, until everything is back to normal again. I look down at you, my heart rate increasing. I don't know what's happening to me, but- there's a Tiger in my bed that needs attending to. I kiss you again._

_And again._

_And again..._

 

 

I'm melting into the kisses - you're - fuck, this is what I live for, isn't it? You, your kisses, your words, your hands on me, your eyes on me - _Jim_ \- I don't know, I haven't really experienced anything else, maybe everything is so intense because I'm experiencing it for the first time? But no, it doesn't feel like that - my body remembers, my body moulds itself to you, your words, your wishes, your kisses... I moan again, the forbidden words just under the surface. I won't say anything, I promise... but damn, I'm in love with you...

 

 

_There are flowcharts running through my mind... all the things I could do to you… highly detailed charts, involving restraints, equipment... I reject them all. I don't want to do something to you, not yet. I want to do something *with* you. The rest can wait. And I will take you through every scenario I have running through my brain, show you the things we've already done, and then take you farther... My cock grows very hard at the thought - the journey of debauchery I need to take you on. But for now - there's this. My body on yours. My mouth on yours._

_"You're mine, Sebastian," I whisper fiercely in your ear. "*Mine*."_

 

 

I know - I know, Jim. But you want to hear it - so - I can't say I love you, but you need to hear I'm yours? What kind of fucked-up relationship do we have? But - I'm not going to argue, not now, because I don't want you to pull away again, not ever, I couldn't bear it...

"Yes... yours, Jim. I don't know who I am. I don't know what I am, or where I come from - but that, that I know. I am yours. Completely, Jim..."

 

 

_"Well, then... I'd better show you what I do to what's mine..." I sit up, eyes gleaming. "There are clothes in the way. Take them off me."_

 

 

 _Finally_. I reach out my hand and reverentially take your clothes off you - revealing the alabaster of your skin bit by bit. God, you're so incredibly beautiful...

 

 

_I watch you as you pull off my clothes slowly- as if you're unwrapping a gift. There's a tiny glow appearing in my heart- I stare at it, like a serpent waiting to strike. But then your eyes are filling with awe... and the serpent vanishes with a lash of its tail. The glow remains. And then I'm naked before you. And we're sitting on the bed looking at each other intently._

 

 

I'm not saying anything. I'm not moving - my body yearns to grab you, to hold you close, but I'm not sure what I can and cannot do, and so I wait for you - your instruction - your command. And it feels so torturous but so right. And it's a delight to look at you - not for the first time, I know, but I need to learn every little detail of your body again, and every little bit of it is so exquisite. Those _arms_. That hip bone. The scar on your side - a knife fight. It makes me furious - why wasn't I there to take that knife?

 

 

_You're looking at my naked body, drinking it in. I look forward to having you lavish every inch of me with your attention... but for right now, you need me to take the lead, and I will, Tiger- I will. I slide my hand to your knee, and slowly move it up your thigh... part way up, my nails dig in to your skin and scrape up. Ecstasy pours through me, as I see your blood rise to the surface._

 

 I gasp, arch my head back a little, my eyes close - pain, again, from you, and I welcome it, I love it, I need this... Jim... I'm not sure if I can touch but you haven't told me not to and I want to, I need to feel you... Need to make you feel how much I love this, love you, whatever, I'm not saying it, I'm just thinking it, ok? I'm confused in the head - but I need to - I stretch out my hand to your arm, the one scratching me, and caress it.

 

 

_I look at your hand, then at you. You've been through a lot today; why shouldn't you have this? I smile. And then I do the same to the other thigh._

 

 

I hiss in my breath - it's so perfect, just the right amount of pain not to be truly unpleasant, but a sensation that deepens the sense of being - yours. My hand keeps stroking, up to your neck, your cheek - I open my eyes, look at you; breathless.

 

 

_I allow myself to be caressed. It's definitely doing intoxicating things to you - beautiful Sebastian. I cover the hand on my face with my own, devour your eyes with mine. Then I lean down and lick up the red stripe on your thigh -slowly._

God - that - uhhhh, keep going, Jim... I know you won't, probably... but... my cock eagerly jumps at your proximity and I moan.

 

 

_I smile as your cock twitches at my close proximity. No not yet, darling. I move to the other thigh, and this time drag my teeth along the bloody stripe._

Oh god oh god - "Jim..."

Look I can't _not_ say anything, can I? You're - all these sensations - they're...

"Jim, please..." I have no idea what I'm begging for...

 

 

_I don't look up, as I lick up the small beads of blood escaping from the scratch mark._

_"I know, Sebastian..." I soothe. "Patience, my sweet." I look over at your magnificent cock, and - yes. You've been so very good... I lick up the length of you, and look up._

 

 

Oh my god. Oh my god. It's all I can do not to grab your head and pull you down, but I'm pretty sure that would mean the end of this particular pleasure very quickly, so I don't - but I groan my pleasure and desire out. I look down, and you look up, and I... damn, do I come this undone every time we have sex?

_Your responses are even more passionate than usual... I know you normally try to hold back around me. You're still trying to hold back, and I see you struggling with it because you don't know why you need to hold back... Poor, sweet, emotional Sebastian... I find myself wanting to be very good to you. How unusual, but not completely surprising given the circumstances._

_Hmmm... how *does* one treat a Tiger well?  I open my mouth over the head of your cock, and I slide down, sucking hard._

 

 

Oh Yessssss... thankyouJimthankyouJimthankyouJim... oh god you're _good_ at this - not that I can compare, but I can't imagine _any_ feeling, any feeling in the world, better than your magnificent mouth on my cock - oh god you're... you're... sucking hard and I... have no more defence. I do come undone. I groan, shiver, need to grasp the pillow, squeeze it... _Jim_...

 

 

_I stop. Smile. Look up. "It's not getting too intense for you, is it Tiger? We do want this to last, don't we?" I slide one hand over your cock, and cup your balls firmly in the other. Then I move my hand up and down your shaft, slowly. "Tiger?"_

 

 

Panting. Breathing. Keep breathing.

The boss is speaking. I must answer. I - how does voice work? Your hand - groan - no that's probably not what he wants to hear -

"It's... fucking amazing Jim, I... fuck, you're amazing..." I manage to stumble out.

 

_"Amazing?" I ask, curiously. I squeeze your balls gently... firmly... gently. "Am I?" I ask innocently. I lick my hand while staring at you, then swipe up, down... up, down... and flick my tongue at the head of your cock, before sliding down over it with my mouth, again and again._

 

 

Oh god... oh god oh god oh god... "I... if you... want this to last... you can't... do that-" I manage. "But please - oh god it's so good - you're - Jim - god..."

 

_I lift my head, and squeeze your cock in my hand. "Can't I?" I ask in fascination. "And here I was thinking I could do whatever I like. That you would do whatever I say... You do want- to please me, don't you, Sebastian?" I ask, throwing you sad eyes, before I kiss the head of your cock and begin to swirl my tongue around slowly._

 

 

"Oh you fucking - _bastard_ , Jim..." I groan. How can I _not_ explode - think of math teachers - I don't _remember_ my math teachers!

" _Jim, please_..., please... I can't - you're too good, you're amazing, you're... fuck... _JIM_... " I throw my head back, can't restrain myself, can't contain myself, can't - must - _must_ , for Jim...

 

 

_I smile wickedly, remembering the early days. What a delightful nostalgic journey, even if I can't bring out the knives, etc. quite yet. I promise I'll be more gentle this time, while you're recovering- well, gentle for *me*._

_I sigh melodramatically. "All right, Sebastian..." I say breathily. "Then why don't we..." I crawl over you, like a panther. "Just-" I sweep down low over you, dragging my body over yours. "do this instead-" I swipe my tongue over your chest, using my teeth when I reach your nipple._

 

 

I'm shaking - my body is shaking with the effort it took not to come, to please you - to _obey_ you - and you're still moving over me, still driving me crazy, nipping at my nipple, and my balls _hurt_ ; they'd been so ready to explode, and I need a moment to recover, but I'm not getting a moment, am I, not with you, you play me like an instrument, and I hear a small whine - was that me?

 

 

_I smile at the whine. Oh, your sweet sounds... I can’t imagine being deprived of them._

_I furrow my brow at the strange thought, then shake it off._

_"Sebastian?" I ask, grinning slyly at you. "Do you need something, darling?"_

 

 

"You... Jim... god... you're driving me _insane_... You're... _so_ fucking hot, _so_ fucking _good_... I'll... I'll do _anything_ \- just - please - it hurts - Jim... I need you..."

Damn, Sebastian, nice show you're giving there. Hope Moriarty doesn't have a thing for cool and collected guys.

 

 

_Seeing you start to lose it is making me so hard- desire is building up in me to an uncomfortable, almost painful level._

_"Sebastian-" I breathe, and kiss you deeply. "Sebastian-"_

_Jim… what the hell do you think you're doing?_

 

 

"Jim..." I reply against your lips, moving my hands over you, one on your back, one in your hair, pulling you close, I need you, I need you so close, Jim...

I feel so lost and you are the only thing I have that is home... and fuck, I need you so much, physically, emotionally, Jim, please Jim...  hold me - fuck me - let me come - devour me - anything, Jim, anything...

"God - Jim..."

 

 

_*Ground control to Jim... fucking come in, or we're shutting everything down, arsehole*..._

_I'm ignoring my own instructions, as I'm losing myself in your mouth, revelling in the feeling of your hands all over me._

_When do I *ever* get this? I ask the Commander with my face. Why can't I have this - just once?_

_*Because. you. idiot. You can't just turn it on and off like a tap*._

_Fuck you and your fucking rules, I bark at myself, and it disappears. I slide my arms around you, pulling you closer as I kiss you._

 

 

You stiffen for a second, but then relax again, melting into my arms, pulling me close, and it's what I need, thank you Jim, thank you, I'm feeling _so lost_ all of a sudden, so empty, bereft... I need you, Jim, I need you, please, hold me, never go away, I don't know how I'd survive, I'm so lost... I find that tears have come to my eyes, oh great, get all _emotional_ on the poor guy, why don't you? Damn - don't let him see - blink - damn, they're on my cheek now - move on the pillow - quick...

 

 

_You're rubbing your face against the pillow. Strange... unless... fuck. This is... not good. This is... not what was supposed to happen._

_How will you remind him of what things are like, if everything is different? We don't talk about our relationship, we don't use *that word*, and we don't fucking... express. I go to look away, but suddenly I find myself looking at you instead. Who told you that you could *look* like that, Sebastian? Oh fuck... Oh *fuck*… I've never seen your face like this before... open... sweet... your blue eyes are shining with... with..._

 

 

Damn, you've seen, of course you've seen, you're brilliant, oh god Jim I love you so much, I can't... I can't not... I... don't look at me like that... like you _understand_... like you'll help me... I know I can't - rely... but you're the only thing I have - the only person I know -I don't - _know_! I'm so lost...

And then you say my name, with such tenderness, and kiss me, and I can't hold back, I'm shivering, and tears pour down my face –

"I'm- so sorry - I don't know what's happening - I'm just - I'm sorry Jim - I feel... so lost... I'm sorry..."

 

 

_oh no... oh no... Moriarty has had enough and is ready to pull the plug on this. Jim is shouting at him to back the fuck off, and leave Sebastian alone. And I'm in the middle, panicking._

_What. Is. Happening._

_Everything is going to melt down fast if I don't wrest back control._

_Priority? Keep from melting down, obviously. And... Sebastian from looking sad and lost??_

_(*When did that become a fucking factor*, Moriarty shrieks.)_

_Oh, shut the fuck up, you *drama queen*, I snap._

_And suddenly it's just me and you. And I'm guessing I'm looking at you like I've seen a ghost. What works in these situations, Jim? When one of us has a nightmare? I gather you to me, rest my head against yours._

_"It's... ok. It'll be ok. You've gone through a trauma, and... I'll - help you." I look at you, perplexed and reassuring._

_"I'm here."_

 

 

Your face - there's a whole battle raging behind your eyes. I think you're going to kill me, slap me, shout at me to pull it the _fuck_ together, soldier, but then you look like you want to hold me, protect me, like you're on the verge of tears _yourself_ , all in the blink of an eye, and the cycle starts again - it takes less than two seconds but it seems like the 100-year-war, and at the end of it you're staring at me... confused, and - almost scared.

And you pull me to you, tell me it's going to be alright, you'll take care of me, and - something breaks inside me, and the tension flows out of me, and tears as well, but that's alright, I got head trauma, ok? But you're here. You're here for me. You're holding me, and it's all I have, all I've ever had as far as I know, and it's momentous, and I know how fragile this is as a base to build my life on, but it's all there is, and it's so beautiful and so dear, and I hold on to you like you're the only thing between me and a 1,000-foot drop.

 

 

_You're clinging to me like your life depends on it. And I suppose it does... what do you have if you don't have me? *Me*… of all things to base your safety and sense of self on._

_Jesus, Sebastian... this finely forged weapon... this beautiful man... Well, I did tell him he was mine. What do we do with what's ours? Keep it safe. Keep it in good condition. Can I do that? Well- until your memory returns, I'm all you have, and I won't let you down. I press my lips to your forehead._

_"I'm here," I say softly._

 

 

Thank you, Jim. Hearing those words, again, does calm the anxiety raging through me. It can't be easy on you - you _definitely_ don't seem the caring type - and I _definitely_ don't seem the type to fall apart in daddy's arms regularly. I feel my breathing ease, the tears stop -

"I'm sorry, Jim. I don't expect I'm usually so - needy," I grin wryly. "It's just completely empty inside my head, and it's - really scary actually. And then you driving me to the edge like that - just sent me over. I'm sorry."

 

_I sigh. God, I'm like a deflating balloon with all the sighing I've been doing._

_"It makes sense that you'd feel out of sorts," I say. "And I'm starting to get a sense of just how emotion-based you are... this situation obviously pushed you to your limits. Do you see why I didn't want to do anything too extreme with you sexually?" I look at you closely. "How do you- feel?"_

 

 

Well. I don't know. I was all for you cutting me open, as long as you didn't leave me teetering on the edge.

"I don't know. Still horny as fuck. Lost. Confused. "

 

 

_"So. I can help you with any of those things- I can answer your questions. I can tell you about yourself. I can make you come so hard, you won't care about the rest of it - for a while anyway." I grin at you. "But not all at once. I may be a genius, but even I couldn't manage that. Which one would you like to start with?" I drop a feathery kiss against your ear._

 

 

"The coming, please," I answer sincerely, then snigger. "Sorry. But - I think it would ease a lot of the physical tension, at least. I - you were talking of fucking me earlier. I think I would really like that. Do I? I mean - normally?"

 

 

_"Do you like it when I fuck you." I look at you in disbelief. "What do you *think*. Have you been noticing your responses? I barely started and you were already begging... as you should be..." I smirk, looking at you through my eyelashes. "So- we've selected? Should I fuck you now? How much do you want me to fuck you, Sebastian?" I move my hand against your face, and slowly grind against your pelvis._

"God please Jim, not... don't... don't tease me, please, god... _Desperately_ , alright, I _desperately_ want you to fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me fucking senseless, make me cry... Just... please, Jim..."

If I have to wait any more I am going to fucking fuck you, and that would probably be suicide, but I need _something_ , fucking needs to happen, some way or another, and I can stand no. more. delay.

 

 

_*Oh, god*... Desire is surging through me, and I kiss you hard, tongue moving against yours. I break off the kiss, and we're both panting._

_"All right... no more teasing." My eyes darken. "I'll take a request. Hard. Senseless and crying. Knees up, and spread your legs," I order. I lean over to the bedside table, and pull a container of lube from the drawer._

 

 

Oh god. Oh god that voice - those eyes - am I always so utterly blown away by them? I must be, mustn't I? Or is it just because I forgot I got inured?

How could I ever get inured?

Your _voice_ saying 'Hard, senseless and crying'; and ordering me to pull up my knees and spread my legs - your eyes getting all dark and... strict - it's making my breath halt, my knees weak, my hands tremble as I pull my legs up and spread them, and my head - blessedly, blissfully empty of torment. You are all there is. I'm yours, and I'm waiting for you, ready for you, for you to fill me up, fuck the emptiness out of me...

 

 

_"Lift your hips, Sebastian," I say in a husky voice, and you do immediately. I smile. "Such a good Tiger..." I take a pillow and slide it underneath you. I look down, seeing you so ready for me, and suddenly everything is so… intimate. My breath catches in my throat. I squirt lube onto my fingers. I slide one slowly into your arse, watching your face the whole time. It's like the first time all over again - for you, but even for me. What could it be like if I had it to do all over again...?_

 

 

Your finger slides into me, and it's good, it's not enough but it's the first step, and I surrender onto you, holding on to my legs, closing my eyes, licking my lips. You are here, you have taken charge, you said you would help me, and I trust you - I don't have much choice, but it feels right. I trust you regardless of what you'd do. It's complete surrender, and it's... as the world should be.

 

 

_A second finger slides in, joins the first._

_"Mmm, Sebastian. So tight... what are we going to do about that?" I murmur. I turn my fingers in a slow, wide circle, grinding against your internal muscles- which clench reflexively._

_"Mmm-hmm... I know. Relax now, darling..."_

_A third finger slides in - the circle is slower, the clenching more intense._

_"Yes... your body knows this well. Just... listen... to what... it wants..." I whisper fiercely, and make a come-hither gesture with my fingers. *Such* delicious clenching, and then … letting go._

_"Oh, Sebastian... I believe I can fuck you now..." I say roughly, slide my fingers out. I push against your legs, raising your hips and sliding my cock against your sweet arse._

 

 

 _Yes_... Oh god I want you I need you Jim please...

This appears to be the mantra that my brain has set on, and it's not letting it go. My entire being is focused on you, your fingers, your words... when you call me darling it makes me shiver. And when you hit the spot... I melt... let go.

And you say you think you can fuck me, and _of course_ you can, Jim, don't you know I am _yours_? You do know - you said it earlier - _Mine_.

Your cock positions against me and I concentrate, relax, it's counterintuitive because I _want_ so intensely that it's hard to relax but I can do it. And you slide in, and _finally_ I feel you inside me, and it's like an aching chasm is being filled, it hurts a bit, but just a bit, and the pain being soothed is so much grander...

 

 

_I'm watching you as I slide into you, drinking in every nuance, every detail of your facial expressions. I didn't have this last time - I took you from behind, so roughly. This time..._

_this time..._

_I moan as your body surrenders to me. I move back slowly and surge forward. "*Fuck*, you feel good Sebastian..." I groan, feeling your hips rocking against me._

_This was supposed to be about you... when did it become about me.. about- *us*?_

 

 

"You... you are amazing, Jim... oh god... so _good_..." my voice breaks. It's intense, it's beautiful, it's _you_ , and you are sublime, _godIloveyougodIloveyou_... I'm not saying anything... But Jim... fill me up, chase away the emptiness, the blackness, the feeling of confusion and hurt... show me the right path, _your_ path, I'll follow you to the end of the earth and will gladly jump over if you tell me to.

You stare at my face with such intensity, such rapturous interest, and I find I can't look away from your eyes. The sensation in my body, my soul locked by your eyes - it's perfection. I'm fine with not remembering anything ever again as long as I get to keep this memory.

 

 

_"Mmm... Tiger," I whisper. "This is not exactly what we normally do," I confide. "But- you feel so fucking good, I don't care," I groan, and thrust into you._

_Fuck... fuck me... what's come over me??_

 

 

"You don't normally fuck me?" I ask - disappointed. This feels so _right_...

 

 

_"I *do*…" I moan. "*Often*... but there's usually more restraints... whipping... fuck..." I plunge into you deeply._

 

 

"Sounds fucking amazing," I groan. "I know you want to be careful with me, and I _really_ appreciate it, I do, but... that kind of thing just sounds... fucking hot..." I pant.

 

 

_"Oh Sebastian..." I breathe. "You're making it very difficult to be mindful of your head trauma..."_

_I thrust into you, breathing hard. "I plan to show you everything... systematically. There will be a schedule-"_

_*thrust*_

_"-charts-"_

_*thrust*_

_"all to help you remember... and you're right... it is *so fucking hot*…"_

 

 

"Schedule... yeah, that sounds _really_ fucking hot... and charts... _fuck_ , you know my kinks... don't tell me there will be spreadsheets?" I pant, giggling.

 

 

_"Oh, there will be spreadsheets..." I pant. "Assignments... exams. I expect you to apply yourself to your studies, and excel…" I look at you severely. "Or there will be punishments... terrible, terrible punishments..." I kiss you, running my fingers through your hair._

 

 

 _GodIloveyou_... I kiss you back, feeling so much more relaxed now you're fucking me, kissing me, holding me, laughing with me...

 _Jim_...

Damn, where does this come from ... it's stronger than infatuation, it's almost bloody _worship_ \- I can't stop looking at you, your face, feeling you, running my hands over your body, feeling every inch of you, licking your lips, kissing you, drowning in you...

"You're... so fucking hot Jim... don't stop... don't ever stop..."

 

 

_"I won't *stop*, darling... because you're not senseless and crying yet..." I growl, placing my hands on either side of your head. "And I won't stop because you're *mine*…" I move my hands to your face, and thrust into you deeply. "You know that now, don't you Sebastian?"_

 

"Yes..." I whisper, looking deeply into your eyes. "Yes, I do... it's... I don't remember, but... I _know_. My body knows, my mind knows, my... heart knows. It's not a consciousness thing - I don't recall you, I don't know - anything we've done together, but... I know I'm yours, Jim. Heart, body, and soul... and mind, what's left of it..."

 

 

_I'm blanking out... you're bringing heart back into this again, and soul now too? But I can't keep stopping and starting, not after everything it took to get to this point. This is temporary, just during the amnesia, I assure myself. And I return to kissing you._

_I can't seem to stop *kissing you*._

_And while I'm sliding my tongue into your mouth, claiming you, my hands are slowly dragging across your scratched-up thighs, and to your cock. I slowly begin to stroke you, to the same rhythm as my tongue moving against yours._

You're kissing me like it's the first time, like we are teenagers who are discovering each other for the first time, and I guess that's kind of true for me, but I wonder why you seem so affected... But I'm not complaining, I love these enthusiastic kisses, I love you fucking me, I fucking _love_ your hand on my cock, god, Jim, you are... incredible. A force of nature. A god walking among men.

I moan softly at your strokes, so slow, so gentle, so languorous, keep stroking your body, your hair, kissing you...

"I'm no longer lost..." I whisper...

 

 

_"No?" I whisper back. And while recognizing that I'm going to need to put a stop to all of this when you return to normal- talking during vanilla sex, talking about goddamn feelings- I also sense a small part of me is … enjoying it?_

_(Very disappointing, Jim…)_

_*Fuck you, Moriarty... you got your list of all that's forbidden? Watch this...*_

_"Of course you're not lost, Sebastian... you're with me, and you're home."  My eyes widen._

_Shit. What-?_

 

 

Yes - you get it. Thank you, Jim - I was afraid it was the wrong thing to say, you wouldn't understand, you'd be freaking out again, but you get it...

"You _are_ home," I confirm. "And - even if I never get my memory back - I know I'm yours, irrevocably."

Your eyes look startled - almost pained - and I stroke you, your face, your beautiful face, looking at me, don't look pained Jim, don't look startled; poor Jim, you must be so strict on yourself, you must carry so much pain, just let go, Jim, release in me... _I love you_...

 

 

_This is -not - going in the direction I planned..._

_(Well, what *did* you expect...Moriarty roars. You turned on the tap, poppet... now all sorts of nasty things are going to gush out...)_

_I stop. I full out *stop moving*. Buried in you. Panic rising._

_"I don't- I can't- Sebastian..."_

 

 

 _Damn. Fuck. Bollocks._ You've fucked up again Moran. Said something wrong again. _What did I say!?_ I said I was yours - you were alright with that!

You said it!  I said you were home - you said that!

 _Calm the fuck down, Moran_. He's freaking out - support him. You're freaking him out, somehow, we'll find out how and why later, but for now - be there for him, like he's there for you.

I pull you towards me, hold you in my arms, kiss your face, so sweetly, so gently...

"It's ok, my dear, it's ok, Jim... Don't worry... It's only me, Jim, it's only me... You trust me... I would die for you, I'm yours, completely... It's ok, Jim..."

 

 

_And here you are reassuring me again... even though you're the one with the trauma. How much of a delicate flower do you want to be, Jim? I breathe deeply, set intentions... flood my system with soothing chemicals._

_"I'm fine. Momentary panic. I'm not used to all these - feelings," I confide, looking into your eyes. "Do you see why I have to hold myself back, Sebastian? I know how you feel about me, I've known all along..." I whisper, and kiss your lips. "But I can't let myself go there... I don't do it to be cruel. But if I was going to feel for anyone... it would be you."_

 

 

"So why don't you? Why do you restrain yourself like this?" I genuinely don't understand.

 

 

_"That's a big conversation, darling. I'm not ready to have it - not right now." I touch your face. "Right now I just want- to let myself have something I don't normally have. Feel something I don't normally feel. With you."_

 

 

I can see it's momentous for you, even though I still have trouble understanding. It seems like you have _decided_ you don't feel, and then when you _do_ feel, or anyone close to you feels, you freak out and shut it down, and then wistfully think oh wouldn't it be nice if I could feel. It all seems rather counterproductive if you ask me, but I'm not going to argue with you - not if you're letting yourself feel a _little_ and it's a big deal - I'll take small steps, my beautiful wounded psychopath.

"Sure, Jim... it's fine..." I stroke your face, looking so strained... kiss you, rock my hips, seeing if you want to start up again.

 

 

_Relieved, I close my eyes. *Yes*, Sebastian - this is what I need. I rock against you, open my eyes, smile and return to kissing you. My hands move to your head, and I cradle it gently._

 

 

I groan softly at your movements, at your kissing, you holding my head like you can heal it, and I wouldn't be surprised if you could; my love, my lord...

You are so sweet now I'm hurt, and yet you are such a fragile little bird yourself, one false move and you're flown away, never to be seen again. While I _also_ clearly see the voracious raptor that will kill with pinpoint accuracy, will devour, will rip to shreds... You are such a fascinating enigma, my dear, and I do look forward to unravelling you... much more than I care about unravelling myself and my past.

 

 

_I don't understand anything of what's happened tonight. And I know that things will have to return to the way things were- as I keep telling myself._

_(But once the genie's out of the bottle, Jim - can it be stuffed back in?)_

_*Yes*, I reassure myself. But we're not there yet. And for this day, and for this moment... I have a Tiger in my arms and on my cock, which is everything I need. I rock against you gently, close my eyes. Mmm... "Sorry for the interruption, Tiger... all systems go." I flash a seductive grin at you. "Now... fuck you senseless, was it?" I rock against you harder, and return to stroking you. "Mmm... I look forward to making you come..."_

 

 

"Hnnnghn," I agree. Those words alone are helping you achieve that goal... And you rocking harder, reaching further, getting deeper inside me, filling me, god, Jim, yes...

"Sounds good," _my love_ , "Jim... senseless is just about what I could go for right now..."

I close my eyes, settle in the divine rhythm of your cock in my arse, your hand on my cock, building off each other, pushing me further and further into delight... Letting go of all other thoughts, just _feeling_ you, _seeing_ you... Just you...

 

 

_"Sebastian," I breathe, flooding with desire and euphoria as we rock against each other, faster... faster... the pressure is building, so fast... one hand is stroking you, the other is pressing down on your wrist over your head, a reminder of that aspect of our relationship - not very present today, but it will be again... deliciously so. "Restraints tomorrow, I think," I breathe into your ear. "And maybe the whip. I'd like to cover you with pretty red lashes, my Sebastian..." Ohhh... my cock twitches inside you, and I'm getting close..._

 

 

That sounds _perfect_ , so perfect, so hot... "Yes, god yes, anything, Jim, _anything_ , but yes, tie me down, whip me, make me _feel_ I'm yours... Fuck, Jim..." My head arches back, your hand on my wrist, holding me down, making my balls contract, you pounding into me making me come undone, your hand on my cock driving me closer and closer to exploding, and your _words_ ... I realize I can't recall a single orgasm; as far as I know this might be the first orgasm I've ever had, and it's promising to be _spectacular_... My muscles clench around you as I'm getting really really near my release...

 

 

_I'm pounding you hard into the mattress. You're close, but you're not crying, so you shouldn't come quite yet. What can I do to make you cry? I ponder this, and look into your eyes._

 

 

You're... changing your rhythm, loosening your grip, you _bastard_ , you're not going to let me come yet, are you; you enjoy toying with me... I open my eyes and look into yours, regarding me calculatingly...

 

 

_"Do you want to come, Sebastian?" I whisper in your ear. "Because you mustn't come until I tell you..." I thrust into you lazily, and lean down to kiss your lips._

I groan - "You're cruel..."

Your hand is keeping me on the edge, so sublimely, and your cock inside me keeps rubbing me in _just_ the right way, and you're so hot...

"I've never had an orgasm before as far as I'm aware... how could you deny me?"

 

 

_"Because I'm so *cruuueellll*, darling," I croon. "And you don't even know the half of it yet, you've only tasted the tiniest drop of it... but you'll see... you'll learn... I want you to learn all of it again..." I breathe into your ear. "I'll show you such things, my-" (love)..._

_*No*._

_"Darling, deadly..." (love)..._

_NO..._

_"Sebastian..."_

 

 

Yes,  your talking is not helping...

Very much not helping...

“Jim... please... god... Jim... I need to come... you’re so fucking hot, please...”

 

 

 

_I don't know if just prolonging your orgasm will be enough for tears... there's usually a good deal more pain and suffering that accompanies weeping. I think back to the first time, and I soften at the memory. Was it really only 6 months ago? And now you're just - my every day. And I can't lose you, I won't._

_"Oh, you'll come..." I whisper. "You'll come and it will be beautiful, like it always is..."_

 

 

 “Yes... but you’re keeping me on the edge and it’s _hurting_ , please, what do I need to say? What do I need to do? Please Jim..”

I look at you with pleading eyes but I suspect that has zero effect on you. Damn - “Tell me what you want, Jim... _anything_...”

 

 

_My eyes widen. Poor Sebastian, I don't know how much is too much for you... you crave my cruelty, my domination, my pain, but you also need my comfort, my strength, my... I close my eyes. Fuck._

_"Just... stay with me. Let me take care of you. Let me take care of everything. I don't want you in danger. I need you- close. I need you here. I need you," I say brokenly. " I *need* you..."_

 

 

The hurt in your voice breaks through the agony of teetering on the brink for too long, and I open my eyes wide at you. Good lord, you _are_ denying yourself when you refuse the L-word, aren't you? That... entire phrase made it crystal clear how scary this situation is for you. Of course - you love me, deny it as you may, you depend on me, and suddenly you kind of lost me - and you're not sure who you got back.

"I'm here - I'm here, Jim. I'm right here with you. And I'm not going anywhere. If I survive your attentions," I grin wryly.

 

 

_My eyes stay shut. I'm moving inside you, surrounded by you, and I'm beyond agenda and calculation... and finally, what I've been denying myself with you comes pouring through me. I'm swept away by pure sensation... Your body against mine... the softness of your skin, the hard muscles underneath... the feeling of my cock inside you, your muscles squeezing around me... I open my eyes to see your endless blue eyes, watching me with concern, and yes, that word... that word..._

_"Sebastian..." I moan. "So beautiful..."_

 

 

You seem to relax, which is good, and move more freely inside me, which is _great_ , and you look at me with such tenderness and... need?

You say I'm beautiful, and it's so sweet, coming from you, how would anyone call me beautiful? I've seen myself in the mirror - handsome, maybe, if you like the rugged arsehole type, but beautiful –

" _You_ are beautiful," I half-protest, half-reciprocate. "You're so beautiful..." I don't know what else to say that won't make you angry again, so I just swallow, look at you, try to communicate with my eyes... everything.

 

 

_I'm moving against you more quickly now... I don't think I can bear feeling so intensely for much longer. Whatever's on the other side of that wall would change everything, and I don't think I want to find out how._

_*Liar*..._

_Why don't we do this more often? Vanilla it may be, but *fuck* you're hot, and *fuck* I just want to feel what our bodies do together when they take over. So fuck crying, fuck games, I just want to feel your *desire*..._

_"Sebastian, you've been so good... so patient and so good... let me feel it, darling... do whatever you want, say whatever you want, you have this moment only... and then when you're done, you're going to fucking come for me... so long and hard... make it count, Sebastian..."  I groan, as I grind against you, and shut my eyes._

 

 

You're moving more quickly but your hand is still only holding me loosely and I am going to fucking _scream_ , but then you tell me that I've been so good, and what does _that_ mean?! But you're giving me a free hand, and... mouth, and... are you _sure,_ Jim? But I can't - I can't not - and then you'll make me come, and just the promise makes me groan in pleasure.

What do I want? Now I have permission, I'm paralysed with indecision - but my body doesn't hesitate, my free hand moves over you and my other hand is released and I grab you, pull you close, kiss you, and the words pour out of me, probably not wise, but I can't, I can't not...

"Jim, oh my beautiful Jim, I love you, I fucking love you, you're... just... I don't know _anything_ , I can't remember a bloody thing, but my body _craves_ you, and my heart aches for you... I don't know what we were like before Jim, but... I can't not love you, you set my soul on fire when I just look at you..."

_I'm moaning as I feel your hands on me, your beautiful words, this is going to be a *fuck* of a mess for me to clean up, Tiger- but right now I don't care, I don't care, I'm so tired of being in control every goddamn second...  "Yes, Tiger- yesss… I know. I know." I breathe, eyes still closed, feeling your face pressed to mine. "You're going to have to forget I said this, just shove it into a corner and cover it up forever, but I lied - I do feel, just seconds at a time. I feel ...for you."_

 

 

"You love me, you stupid fuck," I half-sob. "You deny it, but it's plain in what you say, how you look at me, just admit it, just the once, I've lost my fucking mind anyway, I'll probably not remember it, but just tell me, Jim, please, I'm so lost, just... please..."

What the fuck!?

 

 

_Mind. Goes. Fucking. Blank. I open my eyes and blink at you, you're losing it, you're almost in tears... this wouldn't normally affect me, *why is it tearing me up inside*???_

_"Fuck, Sebastian!!" I cry, as I continue to thrust into you. "What more do you want from me? You want the word? You want it?? Close your goddamn eyes!!"_

 

 

My eyes close of their own accord - your voice commands my muscles without my brain being allowed a say. But I open them again immediately, and grab you, pull your face close to mine. "No! I won't close my eyes! Look me in the eyes and tell me that you love me! I got hurt working for you - I lost my entire identity, my entire past - I'm utterly lost and broken and you are the _only thing I have_ and you _refuse_ to say you love me out of some GOD-DAMNED misplaced sense of shame or repression or whatsofuckingever but you are a _fucking_ human being and you do fucking love me so stop torturing yourself and me and _SAY IT_!!!"

Tears are streaming down my face as I'm shouting in yours and I don't know what's going to happen - you may well kill me - and I don't give a fuck. I have _nothing_ ; give me this.

 

 

_My mouth drops open as you're shouting at me. What the unholy fuck..._

_"You want me to say it? It's that easy? Fuck you," I snarl. "No, *FUCK* you, Sebastian." I thrust into you hard, vengefully. "You have no idea what this will do but you're going to make demands of me?"_

_I yank back your hair, expose your throat. "You promise me you will forget anything I say in the next moment, fucking promise me Tiger, I didn't say it, it didn't happen, I *lied*! *Promise me*!" I'm shouting, but my eyes are pleading._

 

 

" _WHY_?! Why is it so important to you to pretend you are some sort of supervillain incapable of love? Why is it so _fucking_ important that you'd rather _lie_ to me, lie to yourself, fucking let me _hurt_ all so that your precious pride or delusions aren't injured?!" You keep pounding into me, painfully now, but I'm in a battle of wills and though my cock is still a hot rock lying on me I don't care about it now. "If you really didn't feel, you'd have said anything I wanted to hear to keep me sweet. If you didn't feel, you wouldn't be panicking at the thought of losing me. That _is called_ fucking love, you arrogant deluded prick! WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!?"

 

 

_"I'm *not* pretending, and if you had your goddamn memory back you'd know *I AM* a supervillain incapable of love!!" I roar. "Jesus *Christ*, Sebastian. You know what my fucking problem is? It's *YOU*!! Ever since you got here you've been throwing moon eyes at me, and trying to make me feel, you *knew* I didn't want that, you knew but you didn't care!! And you've been *in there*, whittling away, making chinks in the armour, and I *need* that armour, I need it!! So congratulations, my darling assassin- you found a way in. *DO I FUCKING LOVE YOU*? Well, you already know everything don't you?? Waltz in here with no memory, and tell me what I feel!_

_Tell me what I feel, Sebastian!! That the thought of you having been hurt without my knowing makes me want to scream and break things? That the thought of your tears makes me we want to go catatonic? That the thought of you having forgotten the goddamn rules and just leaving makes me- makes me- FUCK!!" I cry, and cover my eyes with my hand. what's happening... oh god, what's happening..._

 

I'm ready to shout right back at you, because how fucking DARE you blame _me_ for this shit, but then you are shouting things that are - actually quite sweet, and that's a bit unsettling, because you still sound really angry, but - it's not quite anger, it's more - confusion? Oh you beautiful, broken, hurt psychopath...

And then you - oh god you're crying - oh my Jim - my anger drains away in an instant and I find my arms around you, pulling you close, kissing your forehead.

"Jim... my Jim, my dear sweet Jim... I don't remember what I did, so I can't say if I'm sorry or not, but - probably not. My darling, beautiful psychopath... I'm sorry I got under your armour... but - it's not damaged or gone just because I'm in it. It's only stronger - because I'll protect you from anyone and anything. You know I will. My Jim, my love..."

 

 

_My punishment of your body has slowed down to a halt - I'm buried in you, furiously blinking back tears. Oh, this is good... it's *amazing*, Jim- let him off the leash just enough to hang *yourself*. Way to handle the situation, genius... Ohh no, no, I can't be harsh with myself or you, when I'm like this, no, *too late*..._

_It takes only a second for the cursed salt to roll down my cheeks... only a second to undo *everything I've established with you* and monitored with such tight control for the last 6 months._

_And now you're kissing me, saying sweet, sweet words, and it's *too much* for me, Tiger... but, wait-_

_Armour is stronger with Tiger on the inside?_

_*Check proposition for flaws, weaknesses*... I narrow my eyes at your proposed thesis, bat it, observe it from other angles... Hmf- promising, I grudgingly conclude. I'll have to conduct a thorough examination of your proposal, obviously- but right now you're waiting for me to respond, looking freaked out._

_"Oh, well done, Tiger," I say, sniffling. I rest my wet face against yours, tears mingling. "You're bloody brilliant."_

 

 

You're - drawing back, frowning at me, and oh _shit_ , I've driven you away again... Damn, Jim, you're fucking _impossible_...

But then you put your face against me, saying _well done you're bloody brilliant_ and that's a sarcastic comment if ever I've heard one, but at least you're in my arms, and you're crying, and if I love you any more my heart will _burst_.

I hold you close, stroke your hair, as you cry, and I cry, and I don't need my memory to know that this has never happened before.

 

 

_I haven't cried since... since... and it's awful, terrible, but I'm in your arms, and it's beautiful, soothing, *needed*..._

_"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that anyone who might witness this highly unlikely scenario you just saw would die a very quick, but painful death?"  I draw back, and place my hand on your face tentatively._

 

 

"What scenario, Sir?" I pull an ignorant face. "I didn't see no scenario, Sir. I were looking somewhere else. Nowhere near the scene of the crime, Sir."

I take your hand, kiss it. "Your secrets are safe with me, Jim. As safe as you are with me. You know I'd never betray you. I don't need my memory to know that you know that."

 

 

_"So then... I don't need to tell you that the fact that you're alive means you're not just anyone... have never been just anyone... and..." I wipe my eyes, "...my accepting your little theory means added responsibility for you? Not just protecting the realm, as it were, but the wellbeing of the one with the crown?" I look at you intently._

 

 

"Wasn't that always what I did? I can't believe it wasn't - not the way I feel about you. I feel _incredibly_ protective - I can't imagine that has just now come up. But - as I don't know anything about the realm, only know about you - that sounds absolutely fine. And - thanks for saying I've never been just anyone. That - means a lot."

 

 

_I sigh. "You did- in your way, as much as I allowed. Apparently I need more from you." I place my hand on your chest, and slowly move it up to your heart before I've realized what I was doing. I feel my cock inside you, still hard - my body demands I *move*, and I do,  slowly.  Gently. "And apparently... it *does* need to be said how I feel?"_

 

 

I didn't think you were going to - and I wasn't going to demand you do. It is clear enough in what you've been saying, in your distress. But - if you ask me -

I lay my hand on yours, look intently into your eyes. So dark, so troubled - but I need access in order to remove the trouble, Jim.

"It does."

 

 

_Well, *fuck*. I thought I was going to seem so magnanimous, and you were going to let me off the *hook*, Seb... "Do you really not know after all *that*, you ridiculous Tiger?" I move my hand slowly to your cock, and increase the pace._

 

Oh no, you're not getting rid of my heart pestering you by turning your attention to my cock.

"I know. I knew all along. I need to hear you say it though. I just... need to."

 

 

_"Silly..."_

_*stroke* "foolish..."_

_*stroke* "*demanding* Tigers and their unreasonable ways... "_

_*stroke, thrust*_

_“If I *didn't* love you, you would have been a stain on the carpet within minutes of my getting home..." *thrust, thrust*_

_“You do know *that*, don't you, Sebastian?" *stroke stroke stroke*_

 

 

Oh, you silly psychopath - sneaking in a negation there so you don't have to use the actual three-word phrase - oh well I'll take it.

I groan, letting my attention jump back to my cock, and yours, and how _perfectly_ they work together at making me... fucking... oh god Jim... I'm... 

"I'm... Jim, I'm going to come... "

Don't say I can't, please, I can't suppress it...

" _JIM_..."

 

 

_I smile triumphantly, trust Seb to be drawn in by the lure of an orgasm, my sexy, amazing sniper, my beautiful Tiger..._

_(He's letting you off the hook, moron... *Shut. up.*)_

_"Yes, *come* for me, Sebastian..." I breathe, rocking against you, and moaning. "Come for me, sweet Tiger..." and I drive myself deeply into you._

 

 

I _explode_ at your words, your deep thrusts, your _divine_ hands stroking me... I see stars...

 

 

_Did you hear my words whispered softly in your ear, as you came so hard for me, as you moaned and shook so violently, did you hear me tell you, my darling, my dear? You seem to be in another place entirely, as I pour myself into you, crying out, shuddering, shivering, and breathing words once more, just one more time, *I love you I love you I love you* so quietly, you couldn't possibly have heard... I collapse against you, panting._

 

 

I black out.


	4. Swimming in Darkness

_I'm lying against you, breathing hard. You're silent and still. Did you hear me? You won't say anything, will you? I take a peek at your face, afraid of what I'll see. But your eyes are closed, so I'm safe for now... wait... something's not right. I touch your face. You're breathing, but- *shit*..._

_"Sebastian??" I whisper, and gently pat your cheek. I pull out of you. *Fuck*…_

_"Sebastian?!" I say, louder. I grasp your shoulder, shake you gently. "Fuck. FUCK!" I throw myself over to the bedside table to grab my phone._

_"You are *NOT* allowed to die, do you hear me??" I shout. "FUCK!!"_

 

 

All is black but it's a soft blackness, like velvet, and warm and comfortable. It's your velvet coat, and you're holding me, Jim, my Jim, and you said you loved me...

I've been shot, I am dying I think, but it's fine, because I'm in your arms, and you love me, and that is all I ever wanted in this life...

 

 

_I'm calling for an ambulance, snarling at the voice on the phone, threatening them with bodily harm, while gathering you in my arms._

_"Sebastian... Sebastian... wake up, *please*... wake up, Tiger, *wake up*!!"_

 

 

The velvet blackness is getting softer - liquid almost, like liquorice treacle. I can't see you any more, but that's because I am molten inside you - I am in your heart, and it's so dark, but so warm, and sweet, and welcoming... I could live here forever...

 

 

_I'm holding you, patting your face, mewling at you to wake up. The oh-so-soothing voice on the phone keeps asking me for updates, keeps being threatened._

_"Nothin's changed! He's still unconscious!! Don't you tink I would tell you if somethin’ changed?? Where's the fecking ambulance?"  I hear my accent coming through stronger as I panic. The tears that were spilling from my eyes earlier are now freely streaming down my cheeks._

 

 

The blood in your heart is so black and sweet - I drink it in gratefully, it's filling me with blackness, the elixir of life and death, and that's what fills you, that's why you're the master of life and death, it's literally flowing through your veins... And that's why you can never be wounded, can never have this taken from you, so precious... I'll protect you Jim, I'll keep the liquid in your veins, always...

But wait... how can I protect you when I'm swimming in darkness in your heart?

 

 

_By the time the paramedics arrive, I'm feeling apocalyptic. My rage and screaming are met with cool professionalism- as they check your vitals they let me know if I don't back off, the gentleman won't receive the help he needs - is that what I want? I back away, shaking._

_One of them asks me questions as I pace. I answer robotically. If I can't rage, I will withdraw... far, far away from here..._

 

 

I - fuck - I can't protect you from in here - I have to get out. As soon as that realization dawns, I am sure I hear you screaming - oh god - oh you're already in trouble - I have to get _out_!!!

I swim and swim through the black liquid but where is the exit? How can I get out of here and into the outside world where you _need_ me - you're screaming my name and _I'm not there for you_ , I'm _failing you_ , I _have to get out_...

I roar with effort and see a glimpse of light, swim towards it as fast as I can - shouting your name -

I open my eyes to see a stranger standing over me - " _JIM_!?" I scream - or try to, but it comes out as a croak.

 

 

_"Sebastian!!" I rush over to you, but they're still warning me to stay back if I want you to be OK. Why are they torturing me? Haven't I been through enough? I need –_

_"*Sebastian*??" I call out to you, desperately looking over their heads to catch a glimpse of your face._

 

 

"JIM!" Someone is pushing me down, warning me to calm down, but I punch their lights out.

"Jim!!" I throw myself off the bed, I have to get to you, why are my legs not working?! I see you, you're rushing towards me, as I fall to the ground. "Jim!!!"

 

 

_They're trying to keep you away from me, and I'm about to throw a punch at the nearest body when I see you hit the floor, but the dispassionate part of my brain kicks in - *we can't beat up the ones who are here to help Seb*... goddammit, *calm down*, Jim..._

_"Sebastian," I call to you, my voice strained as I try to fight back the panic. "I'm here, I'm *right here*- let them check you and make sure you’re OK. Calm down, sweetheart..."_

 

 

 _Sweetheart_?! I freeze at that - and register that the people between you and me are wearing paramedics' uniforms. Oh damn - something must be wrong with me and you called an ambulance - it must be bad if you called an ambulance instead of taking me to the doctor - I try to feel my body as the ambulance men are putting me back on the bed, asking me if I'm calm now - yes, yes, I am, I'm sorry, I panicked - everything feels kind of alright, no bullet or stab wounds - and I can feel my legs even though they wouldn't support me - but my head is a bowling ball of pain.

 

 

_One paramedic is monitoring your vitals, while the other one is holding his head back, and a flannel to his face while his nose gushes blood._

_"Sir, what happened before he went unconscious?" The non-bleeding one asks me in a clipped tone._

_"I don't know... he has amnesia, we're not sure what happened! He got checked out at the doctor today, and everything was all right!"_

_"Was there any physical exertion or emotional stress immediately before?" the paramedic presses._

_I catch your eye and despite everything, I see the hint of a smirk on your face - I start to laugh._

 

 

Don't - don't laugh Jim, if you start laughing I won't be able to - _dammit_ \- I grin and start sniggering. You laugh more - oh god, no - the sniggering turns into a full-blown laugh, and we're both laughing, and the paramedics are getting _really_ exasperated (can't blame them) and oh I really must get it under control, fuck's sake, come on soldier, you can do this...

I swallow hard, but you get yourself under control first.

 

 

_"Well, gentlemen... apologies for our behaviour. Yes, we've been through some physical and emotional stress and overexertion... " I can't help but smirk at you._

_"The first I believe you can surmise from our surroundings and the state of my associate. The second was a spat, and him demanding I tell him I love him. Which I didn't really give into *exactly*, but I think will become *very evident to everyone in the room, the neighbourhood, and the entire goddamn country* if anything should happen to him.  Now if you could please tell me *what's wrong with him*, I promise that things will go a lot more smoothly from here..." I look at them expectantly._

 

 

I'm - amused at first, then shocked - it doesn’t seem like you to tell people what you get up to - and then absolutely flabbergasted when you tell these - muggles - what we discussed - what -

One second wild horses can't drag it out of you, the next you're declaring your love for me to - ambulance men!?

Kudos to them - they maintain calm, professional. "He's suffered some head trauma, as I assume your first doctor must have pointed out. This is what caused the amnesia in the first place. The physical and... emotional exertion caused his blood pressure to increase, on already damaged brain tissue, causing temporary unconsciousness. It’s nothing serious; but he needs plenty of bed rest - and that means _resting_ in bed -" I can't suppress a smirk at that, "and he should be feeling better soon. As ever, if anything changes - vomiting, stabbing headache, double vision - do get in touch with your doctor."

 

 

_Relief floods me. "Are you absolutely certain we don't need to go to the hospital? Be *very sure*..." I say, smiling rather threateningly._

 

 

"It's up to you, sir," the ambulance man deadpans. "Can you keep him on bed rest here or does he need to be in a different location with enforced visiting hours?"

I snigger out loud.

 

 

_"I think I can manage..." I say, drily. "Thank you. If that's all, then I'd best get my associate to bed. For rest, of course..."_

_I usher them to the door, slipping them a roll of cash over weak protests, although the one with the bleeding nose is pretty quick to pocket it.  Then I hurry back to you, sit on the bed, and take your hand. "How do you feel?" I demand._

 

 

I finally let go and start sniggering - then laughing again - I can't stop, I'll have a bloody aneurysm or something -

I'm leaning into your shoulder, laughing until tears are rolling down my eyes, and - at some point I've switched, haven't I? I'm no longer laughing - I'm sobbing. Into your shoulder. I bet that's another thing we don't do. But you let me, and stroke my hair so softly, and - I sag, just letting the tears flow, the sobs come, until they quiet down.

"I'm sorry Jim - I - don't know where that came from..."

 

 

_"Well… It's been a day," I grin at you. "How's your head? And *do not* hold back to not worry me. It was irresponsible of me to- all of it was bloody irresponsible. Especially asking you to work- *shit*…" My eyes widen, and I cover my face. "New York..."_

 

 

"I am coming with you." No argument. "I'm not staying here while you're in the hand of less capable people - that would most certainly cause unacceptable emotional overexertion. I have no double vision, and my head hurts but I can deal with that - I'm _coming_ , Jim."

 

 

_"You are *not* coming with me, because I'm *not* leaving you here. I'll make arrangements to reschedule. Did you know the police were informed of the meeting, darling?" I ask you, looking shocked. "How could this happen?? There must be a mole in one of the organizations. Everyone better start getting their house in order, or this whole project is being *shut down*…" I say forcefully. "Now, I'll deal with that in a moment. Any other symptoms?"_

 

 

"No, Jim," I protest - but it's like talking to a brick wall, isn't it... "No, I'm serious. Don't postpone the meeting if it jeopardizes the deal - I'm sure I'll be fine, as long as there's no severe overexertion -" I break off. That's no use, is it. Bring a bodyguard only to have him faint if things get hairy.

"Damn," I swear under my breath.

"I'm fine, just - my head is pounding like it's being used as a golf ball in some kind of giant's game... and I'm a bit... confused still, as you... gathered."

I pause. Recollection of before I fainted is fine - it's just anything before last night that's still a black hole. "Jim-"

I lean over and kiss you, infinitely tenderly. My beautiful psychopath... “I’m  sorry for the pressure I put you under - thank you so much for what you've given me...”

 

 

_"Whatever do you mean, my dear? Anyone would have called the ambulance, and threatened 999 and the paramedics..." I smile at you, rise slowly. "Don't concern yourself about New York. Your only job is to get strong and healthy again. So you can be my beautiful weapon again, and I can ravish you nightly..." I head to the door. "I'll deal with this and be *right back*. Stay where you are - that's an order, darling." I take a long look at you before stepping out into the hallway._

 

 

I grin - anyone might have called an ambulance, but it's so undeniably _you_ to threaten the world and its brother to show your love to me.

Wait - how do I know that? How can I say what is typically you? I hardly know you - but it doesn't _feel_ like that. It's like - there's conscious knowing and - like, subconscious, bodily, emotional knowing, and the latter is intact.

I lie back, trying to ease the pounding in my head, trying to see if my earlier faint may have knocked loose some threads in the dark labyrinth that is my past - but nothing but cobwebs.

 

 

_I manage to keep it together down the hallway, but by the time I reach my office, I'm almost hyperventilating. I throw myself in my desk chair, lean forward and put my head between my knees. Fuck. *fuckfuckfuck*… New York can wait a moment._

_I did it, didn't I- I broke the biggest rule in the book. Allowed myself to *care*. Told you I loved you?? And what was that with telling the paramedics? Do I need to have them killed now?? It was just- seeing you like that... not knowing if you were going to die... if that was my reaction, that means something doesn't it??_

_My breathing evens out slowly, and I sit up, look around the room. What does this mean for us now? Oh bloody hell… are we an *us* now? I lower my head to my desk, and sigh._

 

 

No matter how I look, there's _nothing_ there - just you. And not memories of you, just some sort of - overarching feeling of you being there, permeating my body, my heart, my soul. I can't recall _why_ you are important - just that you are. I think of your eyes, your voice, and feel shivers of dread and delight - that's not memory. You have done little to make me dread you _that I can recall_ \- but my body knows how it got its scars. And that insistence of love - why did I force you to say that? Why did I care so much?

Because - you are _everything_. Not just because I lost the memory of everything else - you were _everything_ before, I can feel it with every fibre of my being. And somehow the amnesia has released whatever blocks you had put in place to prevent me from going there...

 

 

_I feel peaceful with my head on my desk. I wish I could stay here all night... and just not think... I'll make the call for New York soon. But first... how am I to handle this situation with Sebastian? If I tell him things need to go back to the way they were, he'll be devastated. So not that... but then what? I'm not capable of being in a romantic relationship- I'm just not. Is there something in between *that* and what we had before? I lean back in my chair and groan. Fuck it. I'll have to think on the fly. I order one of my men to make the calls to all parties involved, with a very specific message. And then I slowly head back to the bedroom._

 

 

I can hear your footsteps in the hall - I recognize them, though who else could it be? You look preoccupied as you come into the bedroom - I feel guilty for making you postpone the New York deal.

I stay obediently with my head on the pillow, but smile at you to indicate that I'm feeling fine.

 

 

_I look at you, feeling so relieved to see you smiling and... conscious. I sit on the bed next to you._

_"New York's handled. I postponed it by 2 days. So, hopefully enough time for you to recover. If not, you're staying behind, and that's an end to it. No arguing." I look at you severely._

 

 

I figure I've given you enough grief, and the thought of resting for two days does sound like heaven. I close my eyes for a moment.

"Wouldn't think of arguing, Sir," I sigh. "I am - really tired and my head hurts. I think I also have caffeine withdrawal - I assume I drink coffee?"

 

 

_"You do, every chance you get. I'll bring it to you, *no*, you stay put-" I say over your protests. "I don't want to go through what just happened - ever again. So you'd better listen to orders, or you'll pay for it later." I get up again. At the door, I pause, look back._

_"Sebastian, I..." my words dry up. "You're going to be fine. Don't worry - I always get what I set my mind to. So you're going to do what you're supposed to and get better- or I will kill you for not giving me what I want. Got it, Tiger?" I smile wryly and leave the room._

 

 

I snort at that as you leave the room. My beautiful dangerous love...

You return with a mug of black coffee which smells absolutely divine. I slurp the hot liquid, dying to get it inside me, to ease a bit of the headache and dullness. "I'm sorry, Jim - I'm causing you a lot of trouble, and then I go off on emotional tantrums - I'm sorry."

 

 

_I sit down next to you and lean against the headboard, watching you. "Don't apologize- I was... insensitive? Is that the one? I was me." I shrug. "But that's still no excuse for not seeing the signs you weren't well." I sigh and look at the wall, while idly playing with your hand._

 

 

"Come on - you're not a doctor," I retort. "The doctor said I'd be fine, _I_ said I was fine - how were you supposed to know that I wasn't? You may be smart, but you're not omniscient."

 

_I smile faintly. "Only smart? You *have* forgotten everything, haven't you... Anyway, let *me* worry about what I'm responsible for - right now, that's you. But you'll have to be patient with me. This is not exactly in my skill set. In fact," I confide, whispering past my hand, "I'm making it up as I go along. I don't have the foggiest fucking clue how to be caretaking or kind. I'm currently scanning my database for all the films I've ever seen, and all the books I've ever read, to understand what people do to show they care. I'm sorry you don’t have better, but I'm what you've got."_

 

 

I grin at that. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with from your database. Are you going to meld them together, or take turns between them? Do I get to fill in a questionnaire on which ones I liked best?

I'm sorry, Jim - I get that this is not usually something that's demanded of you. Criminal Emperors are not usually the people one turns to when one needs a nursemaid. And I don't think I'm the type to have needed a lot of nursemaiding - or you. I hope I'm not exasperating you too much..."

 

 

_"Shut up," I say, but not without affection. "You're the invalid, so it's in your job description to be annoying and needy. And as the caretaker, my database informs me I'm supposed to rise above my own feelings and take the high road? Does that sound right? Where does one find this mythical place? Can you program it into a GPS? Are there street signs? Or is it on a secret map, marked with an X?"_

 

 

"I have to be annoying and needy? Oh, sorry, I didn't know - I'll start right away, shall I? _Oi!_ I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to poke invalids in the ribs." The coffee has helped, a bit - my head still hurts but it feels less numb. "As to the high road - do they mean the highway, maybe? They have those in the US, don't they? Have you been watching too many American films? Also - why do I know these things but can't I recall a single American film I've watched?"

 

 

_"Films... there's an idea... If we're going to avoid temptation to fall into physical and emotional overexertion for annoying invalids, maybe we should watch a film this evening. What suits your fancy - gangster movie? Disney film? Romantic comedy with a plucky heroine?"_

 

 

"I - this is a brilliant idea, boss. Since I don't know when my memory will be back - when will I ever have the chance to see my favourite film for the first time again? What's my favourite film?"

You look bewildered and I realize - not that kind of relationship. Shit.

 

 

_"Hard as this may be to believe... our employer-employee didn't involve a lot of hanging out and chatting about films. Although we did get up to a lot of things that an HR rep would disapprove of... I have no idea about your favourite films. If I had to guess, I'd say... crime. That, or the Little Mermaid. Your pick."_

 

 

That - stung a bit. Employer-employee. No chatting and hanging out? But - I lived here, right? And chatting with you - it seems so natural, so comfortable. You are smart, funny - your voice is a delight to listen to.

"Do I have a - DVD collection? Book collection? CD collection? I mean, I don't spend _all_ my time shooting people or sucking your cock, do I?"

 

 

_"Not every moment, no. You read. I assume you have DVDs and CDs, doesn't everyone? I don't spend any time in your room, honestly. You like to work out- how else would you maintain that stunning physique?  And you train to keep up your skills - martial arts, throwing knives, that kind of thing. I watch sometimes - it's magnificent." I smile at the memory._

 

 

"You watch? You don't join in? How do you maintain that stunning physique then?"

 

 

_"Mmmm... I do my own version of training, I suppose. Not as full out as you. And it's terribly sad that you don't remember I dance." I smile up at the ceiling. "You have nothing but snarky comments about my playlists... But you always liked to watch."_

 

 

"I'd love to see you dance, boss..." Damn, don't put such thoughts in my head... I'm supposed to take it easy.

"Can you lead me to my room, so I can have a look at my films, see if there's one we both like the look of?"

 

 

_I frown. "You shouldn't really be moving around unnecessarily. I could just go and see, and then tell you what you have. Or take a picture."_

 

I roll my eyes. "Well could you at least show me to the lavatory then? I assume that's not moving around unnecessarily?"

 

 

_I roll my eyes back at you. "Yes, I can show you. And thank you for the opportunity to practice patience with the exasperating patient. I'm rising to the occasion and letting it slide off my back. Now get up.” I immediately walk around the bed to help you._

 

 

I snigger at that - oh you poor thing, you'll be climbing the walls soon. But I don't miss how carefully you put your arm around me and hold me up, afraid my legs will give out again. They seem to work alright, and I can walk just fine, but you hold onto me like you're afraid I'll faint again any time - and if I do, you won't let me fall. You're sweet, you really are.

"Thank you," I say, as you seem to deliberate following me into the loo; walk in and lock the door.

 

 

_I hover in the hallway. "Sebastian..." I call out. "If you lock the door and you faint... you realize I'm going to have to get in to help you… Are you hoping for a manly rescue, with me breaking the door down all heroically? Unlock the door now or I’m shooting the doorknob."_

 

 

"Shut up boss, I'm not going to faint. I'm not able to do much else with you listening at the door either. If I unlock the door, will you walk away?"

 

 

_I bite back an angry retort. "Well, I'm hardly going to stand out here for the thrill of listening, am I! Jesus *Christ*, Sebastian... fucking unlock it, and I'll wait down the hall!"_

 

 

"I'm unlocking it!" Geez, are you always so bitchy? How do I put up with you?

I unload my bladder, wash my hands, get back into the hallway to see you waiting at the end and my heart melts at the anxious look on your face and the speed with which you rush over to help me again. God, you are such a sweetie...

I turn round and kiss your forehead. "Thanks for taking care of me, boss..."

 

 

_"Yes, well... tell no one. I mean it - *no one*." I growl, as I walk you slowly down the hall. "Since you're up... do you want to see your room? Or are you going to keel over?"_

 

 

"I'd - love to actually. It might trigger memories. And I am not going to keel over unless you sneak a driveby orgasm on me."

 

 

_I snort quietly. "There's always a first time for everything...but if anyone could manage it, don’t you think it would be me?" We look at each other, and the atmosphere charges between us. My gaze breaks away first. There have been several firsts today, and I'm not comfortable with *any* of them... but once the piñata has been smashed open, there's no getting the sweets back in- is there, Tiger?_

_I push aside my feelings of discomfort and panic, I walk you down the hall to your bedroom._

 

 

I bet you could manage it... I can't imagine _anyone_ resisting those eyes, that voice... those muscular, lithe arms... that... oh god... we're staring at each other and the sexual tension can be cut with a knife. You look away - you're right, my beautiful Jim, we shouldn't - I find myself thinking of scenarios in which _you_ climax and I don't - surely that should not be too much exertion? But you walk me to my room, and I look at the stuff in there, hoping there will be something -

The room looks unlived-in, tidy. There are CDs - I'd have to hear the music, the titles mean little.

 

 

_I look around the room while you examine your CDs. I sneak a peek at you, and you seem disappointed and... sad. I flinch. Why are *your* feelings affecting *me* so much? I don't understand... I would give anything to go back to feeling nothing. Is that even true? I examine my inner workings as I walk around your room. With everything that happened, something did shift - you got in, you fucker... but if I'm honest with myself then I have to admit that on *some* level I must have allowed it... I'd like to punch a wall to let off some steam, but I don't think that will help matters for you._

_"So- DVDs?" I ask blandly._

 

 

"Books first, I think... " I say, voice low. "I may have an - old favourite, or something - a cover which will bring back memories -" But I'd been hoping that about the CDs. I turn to the bookshelf - history, historical novels, crime, Guns and Ammo... wait - there on the end. That mint green cover -

I take it out, and _something_ stirs. "The picture - I recognize the picture - " I hold out a Children's Classic Tales edition of Robin Hood in a shaking hand.

 

 

_"You have a children's book?" I ask, and look curiously at it. "Must have meant something to you, if you held onto it. Is it... reminding you of something?" I ask, feeling something rising. What is that... feeling? I'm … nervous?_

 

 

"I... think I remember the story... Robin Hood could shoot better than anyone - and he... defeated the evil lord..." I'm opening the book and yes, the pictures - I can't recall what they will be, but when I see them, I know that they could never be anything else. The red hair of Maid Marian - I remember her name, how do I remember her name?

"Little John - Friar Tuck - oh great I remember children's book characters. But - it's a start. I recall - a bookshelf? A big bookshelf and it had a book about Robin Hood - and I wanted to read it, but it wasn't for children - and I got a chair and got the book, and I dropped it - and Dad was so angry – “

Dad? I try to picture him, but - no, it's gone.

“I had my own bookshelf. And this was my favourite book." I stare at the book, obviously well-read, but well taken care of. Turmoil inside me at the glimpse of my childhood home.

 

 

_I bite my lip, as I listen to you. I'm pacing, unable to keep still. Why is this affecting me so much?? This is a *good* thing- for you. There was something about you relying on me, being completely at my mercy, belonging wholly to me... that was strangely comforting… compelling... Now if your memory comes back, what happens? What if you change your mind, once you have all the information you've been missing?_

_Way to go, Moriarty... make it all about you again. (It *is* all about me!) But I do want you to be … yourself? Happy? I want you to choose me because you... want to? I shake my head, stop pacing._

_"That's something," I say, cringing at my 'supportive' voice. I can do better, surely?_

_"It'll come back, Seb..." I squeeze your shoulder, and study the floor as if it has all the mysteries of the universe written in gold._

 

 

Why do you sound - upset? False? This isn't - you haven't been lying to me, have you? No - everything you've said adds up. I stare at the book more, but nothing else comes back. I look at the other books, scan the backs, but again, nothing jumps out at me.

With a sigh, I look at the DVDs. None of the titles mean anything to me, so I lift my hands helplessly. "I don't know, Jim. I presumably like all of these, or I wouldn't have bought them. You choose."

Wait- in the corner of my eye - that chest. I walk to the chest, open it - guns. Complete guns, disassembled guns. I wonder - I shouldn't - I try to _think_ of how to assemble it, and it _nearly_ comes - tables - wooden tables on trestles - I pull the parts onto the floor, and put them together. This goes in there, you lift that and that slides in, pull that, twist that, click, lock - perfectly assembled rifle.

"Well. I remember _that_. Or - rather - I don't _remember_ it, I just - _know_ it. I couldn't tell you how to do it, but my hands just - do."

 

 

_"Of course. That's what you do. It's who you are... well, not all of it," I amend. "But that's not something you'd forget. Just like... what you feel about me, it came back even without your memory..." I trail off, then look at you. Enough with the insecurity, Jim - that's *not* what you do, and it's not who you are... and you're not helping him anyway with battling your own demons while he's trying to find himself._

_"You're safe, you're where you belong. The rest will fall into place. You'll see." There. That was genuine. *Relief* - I know that one. I smile at you. I look through the DVDs, pick one of your many British crime films with lots of slick banter. "Let's go. Are you hungry?" I slide my arm around you._

 

Hungry? That's a good question. "Yes, I am, now you mention it..."

I'm pleased about the gun - I'm deeply worried my memory will _never_ come back and I was worried I'd be helpless - but muscle memory seems quite reliable, as long as you don't think too much about it. At least you won't have to teach me to build guns - and I assume I still know how to shoot stuff. I wouldn't mind taking a turn on that shooting range you mentioned though - but there's no way you will let me make loud banging noises next to my head quite yet, is there?

I notice your arm around me, not afraid I'll fall any more, but just - because it feels comfortable? It does to me - does it to you, Jim?

"What do we normally do about food?"

 

 

_“Sometimes we order in, sometimes you throw something together. Lately you’ve been having catered meals delivered regularly, to encourage me to eat. There's food in the refrigerator, you must have already taken care of it before - whatever happened. I'll heat it up, you get into bed." I walk with you back down the hall. Strange how comfortable this is getting..._

 

 

"I'm a bit sick of being in bed - do we have a living room? Could we sit on the sofa? With a - I don't know, a cushion behind my head?"

 

 

_"Yes, we have a living room," I chuckle, despite myself. "I guess that would be fine, if you can stay put and not go wandering off." I lead you to the living room, set you up on the couch with a blanket and a cushion, hand you a remote for the flat-screen to entertain yourself. And then I busy myself in the kitchen, singing quietly to myself._

 

 

Goodness me. You must have found quite some resources in your database - you're coddling me. And - you seem to enjoy it. Aw, does my heartless psychopath have a caring streak? Why on earth do I have a blanket?! I hurt my head - how does that make me in need of a blanket? But you looked so utterly cute when you were tucking it around me that I don't have the heart to take it off, even though it's a bit warm. I'll casually let it slide later - if you'll let me.

I press buttons, watch people I don't know speak a language I don't know, which momentarily panics me, until I realize that I've pressed the wrong button and am on channel 999 - some Chinese cooking channel. BBC1, 2 - oh cool, leopards. How do I know they're leopards? Fucked if I know. Anyway, some soothing voice is telling me about their hunting techniques - that'll do me until you're back.

I hear you in the kitchen, - singing?!

 

 

_While I'm waiting for some delicious-looking soup to heat (Thai coconut chicken with lemongrass, looks like), I'm dancing in the kitchen to the Boney M playlist in my head. A short while later, I'm loading a tray with soup and mango salad for both of us, and bringing it to you._

_"Here- eat this," I say, and drop onto the couch. "What are you watching?"_

 

 

"Leopards - nature's fastest killers," I say. "I felt a kinship. I'm fast, right? I'd have to be, if I'm your best man."

I pull down the blanket to get my arms out to get to the food. "This smells delicious - thanks, Jim."

 

 

_"There are none that are your equal, my dear - none that I know, and I know a *lot*. You did mention you had a competition going with someone from your army days. But you came out on top in the end..." I peek into my mind map... Name began with B - I'll have to consult later when I'm less tired. Maybe it will help you remember..._

 

 

"I'm pleased to hear I am fast - but I knew that, kind of. Then realized I didn't know _how_ I knew, and got insecure. It seems I will have to rely on my instincts more," I muse, eating my soup and salad. It tastes nice - again it feels like something somewhere is stirred by a flavour in the soup - but when I try to focus on it, it's gone.

"Want to start the film? I'm not that bothered about the pussycats... Wait a minute, do I drink beer?"

 

 

_"You do... but I'm not sure how alcohol would affect you. Hard no."  I get up to slide the DVD into the player. God, it's been forever since I've watched a film. This feels... unusual, but strangely comforting. I take up my soup, and taste it as the previews are starting up. Delicious - you're always trying different things to make sure I stay nourished. Sweet Seb... I look over at you, and you grin. I look back at the screen, smiling as the previews begin._

 

 

I'm pretty sure alcohol won't affect me adversely, but I can't recall any arguments for it, so I give in with a sigh. You are being sweet, still, and I don't want to push it - this is not your natural habitat, I can tell, but you're doing great.

I finish my meal, put the plate on the tray - I want to take it out, but I'm sure you won't let me. You finish yours, take the tray out - do I hear you singing again? You don't strike me as the singing type, but I must be mistaken - and come back with two very wholesome cups of tea. My vexation at being given tea instead of beer or at least coffee is negated by you snuggling up to me, leaning in my arms, your legs tucked up on the sofa as we settle in to watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels.

 

 

_This is a first... we've had a cuddle in bed before when the mood struck me, but it's a rarity. This feels different... but I like it, I realize with a shock. Your arms and chest feel so strong, even in your current state. The film begins, and I get swept away by the dialogue, your reactions to it, the warmth of your body against me._

_Umm... I could get used to this?!_

 

I try not to chuckle too much, because I am loving your head resting against my chest and I don't want to jar it, but this film is funny.

I love love love this... Your sniggers and occasional sarcastic comments, feeling your ribs rise and fall with your breath, your hand idly resting on my leg... I wish I could hold you in my arms forever, and protect you from anyone and anything...  I smell your hair, softly stroke your arm, and consider that if this is something new, then my amnesia is the greatest gift I could have received...

 

 

_Why did we never do this before??  I'm *enjoying* myself (??)... Once I start commenting and laughing snidely, you're off to the races. You're so *funny*, Seb... I knew this, of course... but I was always so controlling about how relaxed you were, about... *everything*... God… I feel your nose against my hair, your hand on my arm, and I can't believe I never wanted this before... I must have been *insane*. I laugh darkly but you think it's about the film and you kiss my hair._

How did I end up so lucky? I have no idea what I did, except shoot stuff effectively, to end up with this beautiful, intelligent, fascinating man. You intrigue me, Jim Moriarty; I want to find out everything about you - what makes you smile, what makes you sad (and then I'll kill it), how you drink your tea (I suspect sugar), if you're a big spoon or a little spoon... What you're like in bed when you don't have to deal with an invalid...

The film is over but we're bantering about the fictional London crime scenes and how we would have handled the situation, making up crazier and crazier scenarios until we're both bent over with laughter. God, you're hilarious.

 

 

_I glance at the clock, and look at you. Watching the film seems to have done you a world of good (it was being close to you, Jim); your skin is less pale, and you seem... happy. Was I honestly not encouraging of this before?? I feel a dark, maudlin train of thought tugging on me but if I follow it, I will be dragged down to the murky depths of my mind. And that is *not* what you need._

_"How are you feeling?" I ask, watching you closely. "Do you want to watch another, or... do you need some sleep?"_

"I have a whole set of these things, don't I? Let's watch another, they're hilarious." I don't want to sleep. You may sleep next to me, you said that's what we do, but I'll be unconscious and not aware of your presence. Also, you're very changeable... and I love how you are now. I want to keep this moment. Though...

"I mean - I'm not tired, but maybe we can - chat? I know you said that's not what we do, but - I don't know much, still. It'd be a bit one-sided - with you providing all the information - but... I'd like to know more about you - and myself."

 

 

_"What do you want to know?" I lean against the sofa cushions, facing you and feeling suddenly awkward and on edge._

 

 

"Anything you can tell me about myself, to be honest. I have _nothing_. I know you said we weren't very chatty, but you must know some things apart from what you've told me. Really, anything would help - it's - really hard to have no idea who you are. I mean, I didn't know how I liked my coffee until you gave it to me black and bitter. I'm the son of a lord - do I have any siblings? Friends? Did I have any relationships before? What am I good at, what am I bad at - _anything_ you could tell me, down to, I don't know, what flavour ice cream I like..."

I'm feeling so lost again... it's easier to get caught up in you than in the black void of my existence...

 

 

_I'm blanking… panicking... The things you want to know I *don't know*..._

_You'll realize how stilted and controlling our relationship was outside of sex, domination and work... how did I not realize there was more? Do I want more? *You* clearly do..._

_Well, I have to give you *something*... For the briefest moment, I'm tempted to start flat-out making shit up - about you, about our life together. But then... that probably would be considered a betrayal of trust. Yes?_

_(*Yes*, Jim... Jesus.)_

_I clear my throat. "You don't talk much about your life before you started working for me. I know nothing about your family except that you despise your father, and everything he stands for. You hate the aristocracy like no one else I've ever met, and that's *saying something*, Seb. You talked a bit about the army..."_

 

 

Despise my father... I try to think of 'father', but nothing comes, no images, no feelings... I know what a father is in theory, and I can imagine I've had a father, but... no. Nothing lost there then, supposedly, if I hate him so much. And the upper classes - now there, yes, there is feeling. Contempt, scorn, anger. A sense of - they don't deserve what they have - I'm a socialist then? Heh -

"So I _am_ like Robin Hood," I grin. "Best shot of all, hate and rob the rich...

But - tell me what I said about the army?"

 

 

_"You liked everything they taught you. *Liked* is the wrong word... It honed you into who you are. Being on missions, being a big, bad soldier – clearly you were a natural.  Your file is bursting with all your successful missions, commendations, medals... I'll show it to you if you like... maybe that will bring something back.  On the other hand, you didn't always handle dealing with superiors very well... You like following orders, but only from people you respect. The army couldn't provide you with that, ultimately... not like me." I grin at you wryly._

 

 

"Mmm," I ponder. "I can see that. As you said earlier I have a penchant for violence - I do suspect that you have less _rules_ on the exact nature of the violence than the army does. And - if I'm your second in command - that means you are the only one who is my superior... Tell me... did I beat many of my _superiors_ up before I climbed to this elevated role in your organization? Because I have the feeling that that is the kind of thing I'd do..."

 

 

_I chuckled. "That does seem like something you'd enjoy. But you didn't have to... much. We crossed paths fairly early, and you definitely made an impression. You were pretty obvious about wanting to work with me directly, and... well, people are rarely as audacious with me as you were. It was... stimulating..." I grin fiercely. "And lucky for you, I enjoy your particular brand of audacity..."_

 

 

"So I've been working for you for two years, and only managed to get you in bed after a year and a half? What made you resist for so long, you cruel man?" I say softly. I can't help it, I can't not think about sex when I see you, when you're in my arms, when I feel your body move against mine...

 

 

_I shift uncomfortably. "I didn't want to personally involved with anyone. Ever. But I was interested in you, and the thought of a sexual encounter was intriguing... but I really respected your work and came to rely on you. I didn't want to risk it - it seemed like mixing business and pleasure would get messy." I laugh shortly. "Unlike today..."_

 

"Heh - yeah - looks like you were right," I grin. "Though - if we hadn't, who would I have had to give me soup and blankies? I'd be all alone, not knowing who I was, no one to explain my past, or to terrorize paramedics for me... And you wouldn't have had anyone to explain to you how a custard referred to a TV. I don't know _why_ I can't recall if I have any siblings but I do remember Cockney rhyming slang..."

 

 

_I raise my eyebrows. "Or you could have been in danger because of working for me, and not been in this position at all. But yes, it would have been tragic to not know to call a TV a custard..."_

 

 

I snigger at that. "It sounds _so_ wrong in an Irish accent - please don't do that. I know it sounds wrong in a posh accent as well - bu' ah c'n na’’ah a bi' in Cockney - fancy a dicky bird in your bo’’le?"

 

 

_I roll my eyes. "An Irish criminal mastermind and his Cockney assassin. They should make a film about that, it'll be the feel-good hit of the decade..."_

 

 

"Oh you do _feel good_..." I say, cuddling you close, nuzzling at your ear. Look. Paramedics. I have _no recollection_ of ever doing anything at all. How can you deny me the pleasure of exploring this gorgeous man?

 

 

_I stiffen slightly as you cuddle up and start nuzzling... partly because I'm on guard against anything sexual happening, and partly because these questions are making me realize... I'm a terrible person for anyone to love, and just... an all-round terrible person, probably._

_Probably?? Definitely... *You* certainly deserve better. But you're calm and happy now, and I don't want to upset you. Maybe watching the second film is a good idea._

_Maybe *drinking cyanide* is a good idea. *Shit*… all aboard the maudlin train... fucking *great*._

 

 

You're stiffening as I cuddle you - damn, you're dead set against any sex, aren't you? But - ugh. I hate being a poor and helpless invalid. No sex, no beer - I bet a cigarette is - _cigarettes_!!!

"I need a cigarette!!!" I exclaim. "I forgot I smoke - I do smoke - of course I smoke, I'm fucking dying for one! Do we have cigarettes?"

 

 

_I smile faintly. "You always have cigarettes... I'll go get one for you, stay right here." I re-tuck the blanket around you from where you shoved it aside, then leave shaking my head. Just call me nurse-maid Moriarty... that'll make up for 6 solid months of emotional torment, physical abuse, controlling your behaviour...  consensual though it may be._

_I head up to the bedroom, find your cigarettes, and stand in the middle of the room, trying not to scream, not to smash something..._

_*How the fuck am I going to stay calm enough to take care of you*?? I shriek inwardly._

_Unfortunately, screaming in my mind doesn't help, and I have to punch the wall instead. I look at the blood on my knuckles in shock, slowly coming back to myself. What... *oh*. This'll be fun to explain..._

 

 

Fuck's sake, what is it with that blanket? I shove it down again - sorry Jim but I'm dying under here. I don't have the flu or anything.

Now I've thought about cigarettes I can't think of anything else, and I'm shifting on the sofa, waiting for you to come back.

You hand me a packet of cigarettes with a lighter in it, and get an ashtray. Why are you hiding your left hand?

 

_The cardigan I changed into has long sleeves, and I've tucked a tissue in it over my hand. Oh this is the life of a criminal mastermind... hiding wounds from his emotional meltdowns from his bodyguard/lover... didn't see anything like this in Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels. When I return with the ashtray, I deposit it on the table, and draw the blanket over you with my right hand._

"Jim - you're sweet but I'm boiling. I don't have a cold or anything, there's no reason I need to be covered by a blanket. I can't believe you're cold." And - you're obviously not - your face is getting flustered - hold on. I take your hand, you snatch it away. I'm faster though - I grab it and pull the tissue off. Oh. Oh. You punched the wall. You punched the wall out of frustration with me.

Tears spring to my eyes - I look away, I don't want you to see it, I don't want you to get more upset, fuck's sake soldier, get yourself under control, you cry-baby...

 

 

_I grab you by the shoulders, look at your face. And that's when I fall completely, spectacularly apart._

_"Oh no... no Sebastian, don't cry, I can't bear it... Please, Tiger... Please don't be upset..." Tears are spilling from my eyes, and I pull your head to my shoulder. "Don't cry, don't cry..." I croon, desperately.  Oh, god... please don't cry..._

 

 

"You're crying too," I protest weakly. I try to obey your plea, but tears are running down my face and your tears make it even worse and soon we are clinging to each other and crying and I don't need my memory to realize that this is not something we do regularly. "Jim... my dear Jim... I'm so sorry... this must be so hard for you, I wish I could help, my darling, my Jim... I'm so sorry..."

 

 

_"Don't be ridiculous, I don't cry," I sniffle. "Criminal masterminds are terrifying creatures. They're monsters who are cruel to sweet snipers, and they don't deserve - don't deserve-" I break down sobbing against your chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." I whisper in between sobs._

 

 

"Don't be sorry," I plead, "Jim - you're being amazing, you're so sweet, you're taking such good care of me - this must be so hard on you, and you're doing so well - you made me soup, that's pretty much the epitome of care, isn't it? You called the paramedics to your _home_ , without thinking of the dangers - you're trying _so hard_ , and I'm _so sorry_ I frustrate you so much..."

Aaaaaand I'm blobbing again. I'm pretty sure this is not what I usually do. _Pretty_ sure.

 

 

_"*You're* not frustrating me," I snap, tears still flowing. "It's me, it's this whole fucked up situation... I'm not a good person... I'm not good for you!" I sag against you as I hear myself say it._

_"Oh god..."  I say sadly. "I'm not good for you..."_

 

"What do you mean you're not good for me? You - are taking such good care of me - and - I can feel how incredibly in love with you I am, even with my memory gone... I wouldn't be so mad about you if you weren't _good_ for me, would I? How are you not good for me, my love?" I say, stroking your hair, helplessly watching tears flow from your beautiful eyes.

 

 

_I scoff. "Sebastian...people don't always make good decisions for themselves. I'm a narcissistic, sadistic psychopath who cuts you, whips you... keeps you at a distance... controls your behaviour... doesn't let you express your feelings.. does that sound good for you? Is that really what you want?" I weep against your chest._

_Oh god - I've just outlined the reasons why you shouldn't be with me. "That's not what *I* want for you..." I say in shock. 'You deserve to be happy, Tiger..."_

_Did I just let him go...???_

_*NoNoNo*!!_

 


	5. Blankets and Tea and Psychopaths

_Jim..._

Oh my god, Jim...

You - oh god, I unleashed the love that you carefully kept caged away... and now you want me to be happy, where presumably before you told yourself you didn't care - and you think you can't make me happy... oh Jim, no wonder you were afraid to love... oh my poor Jim...

"Jim..." I say, my voice breaking... " _Jim_ \- look at me." I take your face in my hands, force you to look at me.

"I'm a grown man, not a child that doesn't know what's good for him. Maybe it's not the sanest choice, falling for you - but it's _my_ choice, made with full free will. I _love_ you. I'm sure I _love_ being whipped and cut by you too - judging from the warmth in my groin when you said those words. I'm also sure I _don't_ love you keeping me at a distance and making me suppress my feelings - but I get why you did it, now. But - I hope we can change that. You _do_ make me happy, Jim... Just looking at you, seeing you smile, making you laugh - you may be a narcissistic, sadistic psychopath, but you're _my_ narcissistic sadistic psychopath, and I wouldn't want any other."

 

 

_I sniffle, and listen to your order to look at you, letting your words stream through me and sink in deeply. "Maybe it would change..." I whisper._

 

 

"The distance and suppression? Yes - I hope so. I know I pushed you incredibly hard, Jim, but I'm not sorry for it - I think it's what we both needed. You can't sustain a repression like that. If - if this is what my amnesia has brought me - closer to you - it's the greatest gift I could have received."

 

 

_“Yes, you *have* pushed hard... You're broken every rule..." I say in a sulky voice. "And I shall be very cross with you when your memory returns..." I return to your chest, and rest my head against it. Peace spreads through me as I feel your closeness, and I close my eyes._

 

"You can be cross at me all you like, my love...but you can't blame me for breaking rules I had no idea of. And please don't blame yourself for being who you are - I _knew_ who you were when I started pursuing you, didn't I? It's not like I was some apple-cheeked innocent boy you plucked off the street. I had been working with you, presumably had a pretty good idea of you being a narcissistic sadistic psychopath, and thought _that_ was exactly the kind of guy I wanted in my bed. Come on... do you think I would be happier in a suburb with a nice husband and children and two dogs?"

 

_I shudder. "Heaven help the suburb... it would be up in flames by the end of the week. The husband would be in a mental health facility, the children in foster care, the dogs... who the *fuck* knows about the dogs," I snap._

_I look at your perplexed expression._ _"I don't really want to think about you with some hypothetical *nice fucking husband*..." I say through gritted teeth. "You may not remember, but I'm extremely possessive, wildly jealous, and homicidal when provoked. I do not tolerate people, including fictional suburbanites, touching my *things*. Oh - I suppose I shouldn't refer to you as my thing? I do not tolerate people touching my sniper." I'm glaring furiously now._

 

 

I laugh at that - "See? You can't miss me any more than I can miss you. So since we're stuck together, shall we give up the guilt trips about me making you frustrated and you making me unhappy and just - enjoy being together, despite everything? Can you believe that I genuinely _want_ to be with you, hard as you may find it to believe?"

 

 

_"I'll do my best, Sebastian... I just... I'm completely out of my element. I have no idea what I'm doing. It feels outlandish to think of somebody else's feelings, even yours... I don't see that I have a choice, since the alternative would be to let you go... and then I'd just be stalking you and any *nice men* you were foolish enough to try to be with..." I say in a hard voice._

_I look at you trying to hide a smirk. "Are you *enjoying* the thought of me flying into a jealous rage, you silly Tiger?"_

 

 

"To be honest, the thought of you flying into any kind of rage is terrifying, and I don't want to witness it, thanks. But - it's kind of sweet that you get jealous of a hypothetical _nice man_ that I only thought up as part of my proof that I only want you. I don't want to go anywhere. And thus far you have been very very good at caring about me, and caring for me. I can see it's hard for you, but you're doing great - it's not like you're incapable." I kiss your forehead, then reach out for the packet of cigarettes, hold it out to you.

_I sigh with relief, feeling like a terrible dark cloud has passed over us. I take out one cigarette, put the pack down on the table. "I don't generally smoke. I share yours. Light?"_

I light your cigarette for you, grab one myself - from the pack you just put down, thank you, boss, but I'm _fairly certain_ cigarettes don't cause any _immediate_ harm to my head - and light that - relief floods my system as the blessed smoke enters my lungs. " _God_ , I needed that..."

 

 

_We smoke together, looking like we've collapsed after undergoing an epic odyssey - which I guess we have. Your arm is thrown over my shoulder loosely, my leg is draped over yours. Why exactly did I not want this before?_

_(Because you were an idiot, a moron, a complete and utter fuckwit...)_

_*Oh, shut the fuck up, Jim*..._

_"I think you're right, Tiger... the amnesia was a gift," I say quietly. You look happy. "But I'm still going to punish you for everything you put me through," I warn you. "As soon as these two days are over, and New York is behind us. Severe punishment..." I put the cigarette to my lips and inhale deeply._

 

 

That... makes me shiver, in a good way. Oh yeah, definitely not sane. "I shudder to think... what could possibly match the horrors I put you through?" I ask, stroking your shoulder.

 

 

_I stare off, smiling. "Don't ask..."_

 

 

"Surely a condemned man is entitled to know his fate?" I tease.

 

 

_"A condemned man is entitled to whatever I choose for him," I say archly._

 

 

"Oooh, cruel... You're right, you are a sadistic psychopath..." I smile, kissing your temple.

 

 

_"Oh, darling... you have no idea. No idea!" I say, a smile lighting up my face. "But there's so much to show you... reacquaint you with... I'm rather looking forward to beginning..."_

 

 

"Me too..." I say, wistfully. "You can say what you like, but those paramedics are the real sadists. How am I supposed to keep my hands off the sexiest man in London?" My hand trails up your thigh.

 

 

_I look down at your hand. "Darling. You must know I'm not going to allow this..."_

 

 

"I know... but... I could suck your cock without overexerting myself, surely?" I breathe against your ear.

 

 

_I roll my eyes, but I enjoy the sensations of you pressing against me. "Stop..."_

 

 

"I'm down for severe punishment anyway, might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb..." I whisper, stroking your fly with one finger.

 

 

_"Sebastian, you're not well. Can I get you a nice blanket?"_

 

 

"You can get me something else..."

 

 

_"Soup?"_

 

 

"Hmmm... no, something else liquid and warm and delicious..."

 

 

_"More tea? Darling, you're looking so cold..."_

 

 

"Only because you look so hot in comparison..."

 

 

_"So - you need a fan? Make up your mind." I finally crack, and start to laugh._

 

 

I smile, and kiss you insistently.

 

 

_I laugh against your lips for a moment, and then there's only kissing, tongues, your breath mingling with mine._

 

 

I am lost in the kiss, in you. One hand rests on the back of your head, the other strokes your arm, your shoulder, your back - so beautifully, perfectly shaped...

 

 

_Your kiss is so sweet. My sense of being on guard relaxes, slips, melts away under your soft touches..._

 

 

I could do this for hours - and why not? I never have...

I trail to your neck, sucking gently, nipping ever so carefully, not leaving any marks...

 

 

_"Sebastian..." I sing. "This is no longer innocent kissing, you incorrigible Tiger..."_

 

 

"I was not aware I was kissing an innocent, boss..." I murmur against your neck.

 

 

_"You're not aware of what you're in for, if you don't start listening to me... " I warn. "But you're going to learn..."_

 

 

"Mmmm... I'm not exerting myself, I'm just kissing... a neck like yours, it's far more strenuous _not_ to kiss it."

 

 

_"I'm not denying you to be cruel... It's for your own good, Sebastian..." I say softly. When did my eyes close?_

 

 

"Hmmm... I know, boss. I promise I won't overexert myself. Look how relaxed I am. Feel my heartbeat." I pull your hand to my heart, which beats calmly - is it a common trick to lower your heartbeat? Is it a trick you are familiar with?

 

 

_I scoff. "I know what you're doing, clever Tigger... but you're not getting what you want."_

 

 

"I know, my dear, but why do _you_ have to suffer? Surely a man in your position can't be denied a decent blowjob before bed... As for me... hardly more exertion than smoking a cigarette..."

 

 

_"Mmm... I see your point. Very reasonable... Of course, then you'll be all turned on and wanting some satisfaction..." I pat your cheek lightly._

"I'm a poor invalid, I'm sure I could never sustain such a state... I'll go straight to sleep after..."

 

 

_"Full. of. Shite." I ruffle your hair. "That's *you*."_

 

 

"It's easy for you to say... you have six months of experience. I have never seen such a beautiful cock in my life," I whisper against your ear.

 

 

_I breathe in sharply. *Oh*..._

 

 

Yes, I got a chink into the armour... I hold you close, moving my hand under your shirt, still kissing your neck.

 

 

_"Sebastian, darling... what do you think you're doing?" I ask in a silky voice._

 

 

"Exploring the most beautiful body I've ever seen," I reply in a low voice.

 

 

_I shiver. "Playing to my narcissism... very clever, but it's not going to work."_

 

 

" _You_ know what I'm doing... I have no idea... I have never done this before... it's beautiful, so beautiful..." I breathe against your ear, letting my hand travel further up under your shirt.

 

 

_"No..." I say, not sounding the least bit like I mean it._

 

 

I lean back, taking the risk of not maintaining contact for the potential advantage of me taking off my shirt.

 

 

_"What do you think you're doing?" I demand softly. "Touching me is one thing... why are you taking your clothes off?"_

 

 

"It's hot in here... with the blankets and the tea and the psychopaths and all... " I move back to kissing you and moving my hands over you.

 

 

_I slowly pull the blanket up to your chest._

 

 

What is it with you and this infernal blanket?! But you aren't stopping me from touching you, and I move my hands under your shirt, pull it up - I so want to feel your chest against mine...

 

 

_I feel the slide of your skin against mine, and it feels so enticing, knowing I should stop you... I should just stop..._

 

 

I pull you onto my lap, your chest against mine... your crotch against mine... your mouth on mine, my hands around your back, stroking that smooth, smooth skin...

 

 

_"*Sebassstian*..." I hiss. "I'm trying to take care of you, and you're making it very difficult..." I kiss you hungrily._

 

 

"You're doing great, my love, you're doing just great..." I breathe against your mouth.

 

 

_I laugh at that. "Oh, you think so... you're undressing us, and I've failed to stop you..."_

 

 

"You are so beautiful, your skin is so smooth, I can't not touch it..." I gently bite your earlobe.

 

 

_"You are a tricky Tiger, a very bad Tiger, and will be made to pay," I sigh, shivering at your teeth on me._

 

 

"Yes, Sir..." I whisper into your ear, cupping your magnificent taut bottom in my hands.

 

 

_Oh god... I never just let you do what you want... and I'm a blind idiot. Everything you're doing feels so good... and that's why it's so hard to resist, yes, that must be why... I feel your hands on me, and I suck in my breath._

 

 

I hold you in my arm, moving us so you're lying on the sofa and I'm leaning over you, kissing you deeply.

 

_I respond hungrily to your kiss, then after a moment break it off. "Oh god, Tiger... I'm usually much better at telling you no. I'm off my game," I murmur against your lips. " I just don't want to see you hurt...I couldn't bear it..."_

 

 

"I promise I'll stop the moment I feel anything weird happening in my head," I murmur against your neck, as one hand works to undo your fly.

 

 

_I shake my head. "This is not a good idea..." I whisper, eyes closing._

 

 

"You always say that when an idea isn't yours," I make an informed guess, working my hand inside your trousers.

 

 

_I smile. "You can't possibly know that..." My hand moves to your chest, and my fingers trail along your muscles._

 

 

"Anyone who's been with you for five minutes will know that," I smile, finally getting my hands on your marvellous cock, and oh look who's happy to see me...

 

 

_"Mmmm... Tiger..." I say, moving slowly against your hand._

 

 

"So beautiful... So incredibly beautiful..." I whisper.

 

 

_I let out a long sigh and writhe sinuously on the sofa, pressing against your hand._

 

 

I balance myself against the backrest, holding your cock with one hand, using the other to pull your trousers further down.

 

 

_"Sebastian..." I murmur, looking up at you through half-closed eyes. "You will be careful, won't you... promise me, Tiger..."_

 

 

"I will, my love," I promise, bending over to kiss your lips, then making my way down... down your neck... your smooth unblemished chest... to your trim belly...

 

 

_I shiver at your lips on me, travelling down... I shouldn't be allowing this... I shouldn't..._

 

 

Finally I reach the goal of my epic quest, the holy grail, the most magnificent cock I've ever seen - I'm sure of it. Reverentially, I lick it, from the base to the tip, moving my tongue once around the head.

 

 

_My breath hisses out, long and slow. "*Tiger*…" I moan. Your mouth on me is a revelation..._

 

 

Yes, boss, yes, I am your Tiger, but I won't bite - but my muscle memory or whatever knows exactly how to treat this most wondrous of cocks, and I sink down over it, licking, gently sucking, moving quickly, shallowly...

 

 

_*Ohhh*… you soooo know what to do... my magnificent Tiger..._

_I breathe deeply, and move in your mouth._

I don't think you're going to tell me no any more - I relax, settle in, start up a more regular rhythm.

 

 

_"Oh, god..." I moan. Your mouth is majestic, a paradise... Pleasure floods through me, builds in me, as your rhythm does._

 

I _did_ tell you I would be careful, and moving my head up and down is probably not the best thing for it - I briefly stop, put my arms around you, lift you up, and position myself on the sofa, my head propped up by the armrest, you sitting on my chest. Eagerly I open my mouth, manoeuvre you inside.

 

 

_You change positions, and I assume you're minding the wellbeing of your head, which is a relief. And then I'm on top of you with my cock in your mouth, and all thoughts and worries are driven from my head. I'm a narcissistic psychopath, all right..._

 

 

You seem happy enough with this new position, and honestly, you couldn't complain about my head - it's perfectly comfortable leaning against the armrest, my arms supporting your beautiful arse, you moving in and out of my mouth, my tongue licking the underside of your cock...

 

 

_Oh god, Tiger… this position is brilliant, we need to do this even when you're not suffering from head trauma... Your amnesia *has* been a gift... *I love you, Tiger*…  the thought shocks me out of my lustful reverie. I look down at your face, watch you as you suck me and pleasure me._

 

 

You - hesitate and I look up, to see you watching me. It's _so hot_ to see you watching me, but there's something in your eyes... surprise? Slight - fear? I keep looking at your eyes as you move in and out of me.

 

 

_Your eyes are focused on me... intent.. concerned... I smile wantonly at you, and then sink into lust and desire. My back arches, and I feel the rhythm and intensity mounting... dragging me into a wave of pleasure, as I feel your wet mouth lick and suck my cock._

 

 

Whatever you were thinking, you seem content again; focusing again on fucking my mouth, which is immensely satisfying - I know it turns me on, but I meant what I said earlier, I am perfectly happy just doing this...

 

 

_"Tiger..." I moan, as the wave moves through my body... "Your mouth feels so good... I'm so close... I love you, Tiger... I love you..." I groan, as I move faster against your mouth._

 

 

You - you said - you - unbidden - I -

It's a good thing I don't have to do much in this position, because I am frozen, and tears spring into my eyes. _I love you Jim, I love you, I love you so much_... I can't say it, but I think it with all my might.

 

_I'm moaning, and seeing the look in your eyes, and intense pleasure bursts through me. My orgasm rocks my body, and pours into your mouth as I shudder against you._

 

 

 _Reward_... I got what I wanted, your pleasure in my mouth, and so much more... your words... _not_ forced, _not_ dragged out against your will, freely given, the greatest gift of all... I love you Jim, I love you...

 

 

_I'm gripping the sofa so as not to collapse forward onto you. When I stop shivering and moaning, I slowly lower myself down and collapse against your chest. My face presses to your neck. "Did you hear me?" I mumble. "I love you...Don't pass out..."_

That - I was trying to not let myself think that it might have been said in the throes of passion, but it did - cross my mind... But you're repeating it after orgasm... oh Jim...

"I'm not passing out, my love... I promise... I'm fine... I'm more than fine... I love you so much, Jim..." ... and I'm crying _again_. "I'm sorry... I'm sure I'm not normally so blubby..."

 

 

_"Neither am I, Tiger... but you've already *not* seen me cry twice today..." I whisper into your ear._

 

 

"It's special circumstances... no jury in the world would convict us... " I whisper into your hair, stroking your back.

 

 

_"Mmm... s'funny, Tiger... you're funny..." I say in a sleepy voice, and touch your face as I close my eyes._

 

 

Oh, my beautiful love… This sofa is not long enough for me to sleep on though - it breaks my heart to move you, but better now than when you've properly fallen asleep...

"Jim... my love..." I nudge you gently. "Come to bed with me?"

I assume under normal circumstances I'd just have carried you - though - maybe that would have made you angry. Anyway, if I tried to do so now you'd definitely disapprove - you won't even let me carry a cup of tea. But if we go to bed, boss, you'll finally get your wish of seeing me covered in a blanket.

 

 

_My breath catches in my throat at your voice. I lift my head slightly and my eyes open halfway._

_"Hmm? Yes... you should go to bed... I'll be right there..." I lay my head back down against you, and my breathing slows._

 

 

Yes, thank you, Jim... I'd stay here and watch you sleep forever, but my neck muscles are pulling and that can't be good. Alright then - I move as gently as I can and lift you up in my arms, the blanket falling onto the floor.

 

 

_I awake with a start. "Wait- you shouldn't be lifting anything. Why aren't you in bed?" I demand, as you carry me across the room._

 

 

"On my way boss," I smile at you as we get through the door. "There was a magpie asleep on my chest, so I had trouble moving."

 

 

_"Seb, *no*... why are you carrying me in your condition?" I protest. "Put me down, I'm perfectly capable of walking..."_

 

 

"OK then, boss," I say, as I think you will kill me if I carry you up the stairs, and I don't fancy a fight about it. I lower you down and gently put you on your feet.

 

 

_"Ridiculous Tiger," I grumble, sliding my arm around you to support you before we start climbing the stairs. "Oh! and now I'm remembering a certain blow job, despite explicit orders to rest... what do you have to say for yourself?"_

 

 

"I'm ridiculously good at blow jobs?" I grin, walking up the stairs not too fast, so as to not get my heart racing.

_“You are... and that's no excuse. If you end up in the hospital, I'm going to murder you." I glare at you. "I mean it."_

 

 

"I know, boss. But I won't. I'm perfectly ok. Much better than before the blow job." We get to the top and I pull you close, kiss your forehead. You won't be able to wipe that grin off my face - I'm literally the cat that got the cream.

 

 

_I roll my eyes. "You're *impossible*. You were mouthy before, and now I have to figure out new ways to keep you in line? Fine. I *will*… now get into bed."_

 

 

"Now _there's_ an offer..." I grin as you roll your eyes and look daggers at me. Bed is probably a good idea - I am tired and my head is still pounding. I realize I don't know - "Which is my side?"

 

 

_"Left. Because I'm always right. Don't roll your eyes at me." I point to the bed. "In."_

 

 

I grin broadly at that - and I approve, it puts me between you and the door. "Yes, boss," I smile at you, lie down in the bed, my head briefly spinning at the change of orientation. Oh, that does feel good though... I try to relax my neck muscles as much as I can, letting the pillow take the weight.

 

 

_I cross my arms and tilt my head, studying you. "Tell me- how do you feel? Don't leave anything out."_

 

 

"What - I get a cross-examination _now_? Ehm - head is pounding but less bad than before. The room spun for a moment as I lay down but it's stopped now. Happy to be in bed, I think I'll sleep well. Very satisfied with the blow job earlier. And - most importantly - insanely happy that the most beautiful narcissistic sadistic psychopath in the world loves me. Oh, and - madly in love." I smile, genuinely. Think me soppy if you want.

_Information is streaming into my mind, being assigned places in my mind map - OK, understandable symptom... Some concern but not critical... Patient is complying... Patient is... mouthy... Patient is...  I blink at you. My mind blanks. I step towards the bed, go to say something, stop. Walk around the bed, slide in under the covers next to you. Tentatively wrap my arm around you. Turn your face towards me and kiss you deeply._

 

 

 _Oh_... a kiss... and such a gorgeous kiss, full of sweetness, tenderness, concern, love... I bet we didn't have many of those, did we, Jim?

I stroke your face, your neck, your hair, as I sink into the sweet bliss that a simple kiss can bring...

 

 

_I break off the kiss, as I feel you stroking me. "Oh...potentially dangerous. Here's something to know about yourself- you take anything for a come-on.  I mean, *anything*. So don't get any ideas, it was just a kiss. We'll see how you're feeling tomorrow..." I press my face back into your neck, as I had been on the sofa. "Now go to sleep, Tiger..."_

 

 

I chuckle at that. "Was that a come-on, boss?" But I'm happy - sure, I could do with a good shag, always, but I'm happy to lie here and drift away in your arms as well. I lie on my back, pull you into my arm, kiss the top of your head. "Goodnight, my love..."

 

 

_I feel myself just start to drift, when I awake with a start. "Oh. No. Sebastian... you should be sleeping on your side, if you have a headache. Turn over..." I pull myself out of your grasp, and you sigh and flop to your side. I lie down on my side next to you. My eyes widen as I feel myself being yanked against you. Your arm slides around my rib cage. I smile and close my eyes. "Night, Tiger..."_

 

 

Hmmm... what? I was nearly asleep... ugh, little bossy thing... come here. I cuddle you close as you bid me goodnight. I hope that's the end of it...

Drift off with the smell of your hair in my nose...

No dreams.

 

 

_I awaken in the cage of your arm. What?? What the hell, Moran? We don't do this... just for a little while if one of us has the inevitable nightmare. But not *all night*. Sebastian, you've forgotten yourself. Sebastian, you've forgotten... My breath catches in my throat._

_*OH*..._

I awake to a kitten stirring in my arms. It's too early to be awake. I pull the kitten closer, kiss his neck, smelling of sleep and sweat and kitten. Perfect. I fall back asleep.

 

 

_So let me just get all this straight... Seb has amnesia..._

_I freaked out about it..._

_I fucked him even though he had a head injury..._

_he demanded I tell him I love him..._

_I *told him I love him* (!!!)..._

_he lost consciousness and I *called an ambulance* instead of my trusted doctor..._

_I acted like nursemaid all evening, getting him soup and tea..._

_he rejected the blanket..._

_he insisted on giving me a magnificent blowjob even though I told him to rest..._

_and then we spooned all night._

_Am I caught up to speed? Was there anything else?_

 

 

Kitten's stiffening in my arms. That's not right. Only one bit of kitten should be stiffening and it's not his shoulder muscles.

I drift upwards to consciousness... Who is kitten? Wait - what happened?

I'm - injured - my head hurts - some bossy little fellow told me I'm the right hand man of a criminal emperor (him), then there was sex... an ambulance... love... snuggles on the sofa... oh my.

So - I'm a criminal, in love with my boss, and I made my boss confess he's in love with me, even though he's a... what was it... narcissistic sadistic psychopath.

And that's all I know.

Huh.

Sounds bloody perfect. Now I need a fag.

 

 

_Oh yes, I also told the ambulance drivers I love him... now, I'm caught up._

 

 

I stretch out languorously, then wrap my arms around preoccupied kitten again, kiss his cheek. "Morning, boss..."

I look on the bedside table for fags - none. Open the drawer - ah, good, a nearly full pack and several lighters. I pull one out, put my pillow against the headboard, light it (the fag, not the pillow).

 

 

_I look back at you, and cough pointedly. "Starting early, are we? I guess you've forgotten the only time I'm ok with you smoking in bed is after we shag. How's your head, Sebastian?"_

 

 

"Technically, it is after we shagged - I didn't get the chance to have one yesterday," I reply reasonably. "My head feels - a lot better than yesterday, thanks. But I still don't remember anything before yesterday, unfortunately..."

 

 

_I roll over onto my elbow. "Give me that." I pluck it from your fingers and take a drag. "Ugh. Disgusting first thing in the morning..." I puff again, and give it back to you, making a face. "Don't get in the habit of it. So you're having a day to rest today, and then we'll take you to the doctor first thing in the morning. I need to do some work from home today, but first, are you hungry?"_

"Ravenous," I grin, grabbing you close and kissing you.

 

 

_I feel relieved, but I frown. "Didn't you hear me? You're resting today..."_

 

 

"I am resting - look, I'm in bed and I have a blanket..."

 

 

_I laugh, then struggle to regain my grumpy demeanour. "Oh good, you're finally following orders. What would you like for breakfast? I can manage it."_

 

 

"Hmmmm... I loved that first fag... I'd like to have a second one..."

 

 

_"You're not having cigarettes for breakfast, you need to keep your strength up... You almost ended up in the hospital, remember? Do you want eggs?"_

 

 

"I wasn't talking about cigarettes... "

 

 

_"Who are you calling-" my mouth drops open, and I laugh in shock._

 

 

"Oh sorry, boss... I thought we were dangerous criminals, above society's rules - but homophobic slurs are going too far, are they?"

 

 

_"Sebastian, I'm not used to you calling me *any* names, let alone a fag. We didn't have that kind of relationship... you took me by surprise, that's all. And we're not having any queer sex until I know you're all right, you persistent, randy queen..."_

 

 

"I acknowledge the persistent and randy, but _you_ are definitely the Queen in this house... I assure you I am perfectly alright, there are just certain parts of me that ache..." I rub my crotch against you.

 

 

_"Sebastian... this is not what we agreed to... " I narrow my eyes at you. "Can you just go back to doing what I say, already... I can't get you in line until you're well enough to punish severely... but you're not following medical orders, so when will I be able to punish you? It's terribly frustrating, darling..."_

 

 

"Mmm, talk of punishment is not lessening the ache, darling..." I nuzzle against your neck.

 

 

_"You're right, I am the Queen in this house. So do as I say, or I'll have you thrown in the dungeon."_

 

 

"We have a dungeon? Kinky..."

 

 

_"I'll have one installed, just to have somewhere to throw you..."_

 

 

"I love you Jim, but you are a bit of a mother hen... I'm a big boy, I'm not going to faint again just from an orgasm. It was just the combination of... everything yesterday, and it was _just_ after the injury. I promise I feel much better... but if you insist we can have breakfast first, and a coffee, and then I'll be in top nick - besides, I'll need to prove I feel better in order for you to trust me to come with you tomorrow, won't I?"

 

 

_"Well, if you had seen me un-fucking-conscious and white as a ghost, while paramedics were checking my vitals to figure out what was wrong, and you were convinced I was going to die... how would you be feeling now?" I look at you pointedly._

 

 

Oh... oh you sweetheart - that makes my heart twist, actually...

"Touché, boss," I sigh. "But you can't keep coddling me forever... when will you believe I feel better?"

 

 

_I frown. "I'm not sure... they said you needed a couple of days.  But I want the doctor to check you again. Your symptoms should be gone before you get into any dangerous situations... I'm not convinced you should come with me tomorrow..."_

 

 

"Yeah, no, sorry boss, but that's not happening. You can bring someone else as backup if you like, but if you're leaving me behind I'm _definitely_ getting overexerted. I'm not letting you go into any dangerous situation without me. And that's final. You're in charge - but I'm your bodyguard and it's my responsibility to keep you alive. And - I would be - scared to death -" I finish in a whisper.

 

 

_I'm pulling you towards me, before I even realize what I'm doing. I guess yesterday did leave its mark... "When did you get so bossy...obstinate... demanding... impossible?? don't you know that position has already been filled?" I ask you, holding your face in my hands. You smile, but you still seem shaken. "Nothing's going to happen to me. Nothing. We'll figure out tomorrow what to do. If you insist on coming with me, you may need to be in sniper mode instead of at my side." I kiss you softly, and start to pull away- you pull me back to your lips. The kiss deepens._

 

 

We kiss, and it's everything. It's home, it's my life; I don't care I don't have a past if this is my present.

"I don't know - must have been the head injury that made me from a meek, docile, pliable little lamb into this horrible obstinate ass. But I can't imagine I ever let you go anywhere dangerous without me, did I? And don't worry, I can do sniper mode instead of simpering lovesick puppy..."

 

_"I’m sure once you have a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with, as always. An actual weapon, I mean...” My expression is all innocence._

 

 

Oh, now don't you go giving off mixed signals, boss...

"I'm good with anything I get my hands on..."

 

 

_“I know, darling... I’m intimately acquainted with your work. Would you like some coffee?”_

 

 

Ugh, frustration! "You're cruel and unusual, you know that?" I sigh theatrically. "Sure, coffee sounds good." I get out of bed. "Eh - where do we keep the towels? I assume you'll let me have a shower?"

 

 

_“Cruel and unusual? Of course I know! A shower would be fine although I wonder if I should join you, to make sure you don’t slip or faint. Follow me.” I get up and walk to the bathroom, flashing a *look* behind me._

 

 

Join me in the shower? Sounds _absolutely_ fine, boss... I grin broadly as I follow your pert arse to the bathroom.

 

 

_You enter the room grinning, and I shake my head at you. “Just what do you think is going to happen in here? I’ve invited you to join me in a very practical shower. There’s to be no funny business...” I manage to keep my serious expression intact._

_“Towels here,” I say, pointing to the shelves. “Your terrible products there,” I point to the shower. “Get in.”_

 

 

"Yes Sir..." I grin, getting into the shower, turning on the water, waiting for it to get to a good temperature, then open my arms to invite you in.

 

 

_God, in the space of less than 24 hours, I seem to be incapable of saying no to you (with any seriousness) or resisting your ridiculously sweet charm. I’m going to have to think long and hard about this and figure out a plan of action to get this house in order again... but in this moment I don’t seem to care, as I’m walking into your arms in the shower, and plastering myself against your wet body._

Mmmmm... "Wet you feel even smoother and more delicious than dry... " I murmur as I let my hands roam all over you, feeling every inch of that strong back, those wiry muscular arms, that incredibly perky arse... My right hand drifts up to your neck and pulls you close for a kiss.

 

 

_Kissing you under a stream of warm water is like heaven, at least the only kind of heaven I would be allowed into. How have we never done this before?? I slide my arms around your neck._

 

 

Your arms around my neck feel so precious – I feel like I've been chasing you and feeling you reciprocate is such a reassuring feeling. I still feel on wobbly ground, so any gesture of love and tenderness is so precious to me... I stroke your body more gently, reverently, committing every wet inch of it to tactile memory...

 

 

_I break off from the kiss, and look at you. Your eyes are searching for something in mine. I see love, concern, some fear, even as you’re holding me, caressing me... I touch your face._

_“If I seem reticent... I just want to be sure you’re safe. And this is all very new and very weird for me, to be honest...”_

 

 

"I understand, Jim... It's very weird and new to me too, as you can imagine... But you are... I don't know. You are so dear to me... and you are everything I know... It can be a bit overwhelming. I'm sorry if I seem needy..."

 

 

_"You don’t...”_

 

 

"Thank you, but I know I do... and I can understand you getting exasperated. You are so sweet though, trying so hard to be caring, when I know that's not in your nature... I'm sorry I keep trying to jump you, but you are utterly sexy as well as sweet..."

_"You don't need to apologize for trying to jump me... I understand why it would be difficult not to..." I smirk, as the water runs over my hair and face._

"Thanks..." I smile. You're so much sweeter this morning... I wonder if you have moods and yesterday was just a bad one...

I take your body wash from the shelf, put some on my hand, and start moving over your body... Oh that feels even _better_ , so smooth...

 

 

_I had fully intended to keep you on the couch all day under my watchful eye, and not let you get up to anything strenuous. But then I really shouldn't have come into the shower with you... shouldn't have let you touch me... or kiss me... and now you're looking down at me with those impossibly blue eyes... I shut my eyes, feeling your hands on me as you spread body wash over my skin..._

 

 

It's marvellous to slide my hands over your body, feeling every bit of it... I press my chest against yours as I move over your back, feel your cock stirring against mine... mmm... I move my hands down to your arse, which is impossibly perfectly shaped, washing your cheeks... in between...

 

 

_I breathe in sharply when I feel your hands go exploring... this is not the way things go, usually it's me taking the lead... I'm feeling like I'm on a runaway horse that I had broken in *perfectly*, and now it's got a mind of its own... only... this feels so damn good, I don't really *want* to stop you..._

_I expect that once your memory returns we can go back to the way things were, and this is just a glitch... it'll be over any day now... I hear myself moaning as your hands... your hands..._

 

 

Hmmm, this appears to be appreciated... this stuff is really conveniently slippery... I am sure I could slide a finger in... carefully... rubbing my crotch against your cock...

 

 

_A finger slides into me... Did I say you could take such liberties? I disapprove and I want more... so much more... I move my lips to your collarbone, and bite down hard on the tender flesh..._

 

 

I moan at that... oh fuck... Jim, my Jim... God that feels good...

I kiss your head, your ear, your neck... make my way down your chest, kneel down onto the floor of the shower, take you in my mouth, licking the water pouring off the head of your cock... This is easier, I can reach better... I push my finger in further while I slide my mouth around your cock...

 

 

_Ah... this is more familiar ground... you on your knees in the shower. It doesn't usually involve the insertion of fingers, but it's... not unwelcome...  I close my eyes and my head falls back._

 

 

I've taken the stuff down with me and squirt some more on a second finger, and carefully push that in with the first... god you're tight, and hot... I wonder if you even let me fuck you usually, bossy pants? Well, we'll see... I do hope so... god, I do.

 

 

_I'm breathing faster as you suck my cock... once again I find myself thanking the stars that special skills are not forgotten with amnesia... because it would be a tragedy for the history books if Sebastian Moran forgot how to give the best blow job on the planet._

_A second finger has found its way inside me... I really should have put a stop to this... I don't know what's in your head, but fucking me wouldn't give you the right idea of the usual order of things... your fingers are moving, and I'm moaning louder..._

 

 

I slowly move my fingers, then faster, moving them in time with the movements of my head, which seems to be taking this in stride. Good. I really enjoy this... your sounds, your moans, your muscles clenching and unclenching... I take you deep, push my fingers in as deep as they'll go...

 

 

_God, you really are good at this... I'm finding it hard to remember why I don't give you free rein more often... something about... making sure you know your place. Right... well now your place is on the shower floor, pleasuring me... that seems harmless enough. I feel my heart pounding, and I'm not sure why... I bring all my attention to the amazing things you're doing with your mouth and fingers, and I'm groaning in response, my back pressed to the shower wall..._

 

 

I move my fingers and my mouth until all appears to go smoothly, then slide off your cock, move up along your body again, kiss you deeply, then turn you around, pushing myself against your back, rubbing my cock against your arse...

 

 

_I find myself being moved into a submissive position, while you're rubbing your cock against me... My heart slams in my chest. Do I stop you, and explain that... oh shut the fuck *up*, Moriarty…  it's not like he's never fucked you before, it's just... I turn and give you a heated look over my shoulder. "I usually tell you when to do this..." I say in a lazy voice. "Just know that as soon as I have the all-clear, I'm restraining you good and tight... and teaching you *everything* you've forgotten, Tiger... so do think of that while you fuck me, darling..."_

 

 

"Can't wait, Sir..." I mumble into your ear, as I pour some more of the shower stuff onto my cock. I'm sure it's not meant for this, but it's slick and smooth enough... I kiss your neck, your shoulder, as I push myself against you, and slide in... _so_ carefully... God this is... incredible... have I done this before?! What a blessed life I must lead... Damn...

"God Jim you're _so hot_... so _incredibly_ hot... Tell me if I hurt you, darling... " I move very carefully further in.

 

 

_I'm pressing my face into the shower wall, my mouth open... fuck… *fuck*, that feels good. It's been a *while* since I've let you fuck me... I know you always want to... and I find it so fucking hot every time... I deny you and me what we want because of my rules, and controlling every little thing... well, I don't know any other way to be. But this is happening *now* and I'm damn well going to enjoy it._

_Your cock is sliding into me, and I'm tight and burning and gasping with pleasure..._

 

 

"God... Jim... you're so _hot_... I know I said that already... but it bears repeating... is this ok? Am I not hurting you?" I look at you with concern - your face is screwed up in what could be pain or pleasure or both...

 

 

_"You can never tell me too often that I'm hot..." I pant, eyes closed. "And I'm not a delicate flower... just *fuck me*, Sebastian..."_

 

 

"Certainly, Sir..." I smile, and push inside you slightly harder. You moan, push against me, and _god_ that's hot... "Jim... my Jim..." I pant, digging my fingers into your hips in my effort not to push too hard... god, you feel so _incredibly good_...

 

 

_My eyes are squeezed shut, my forehead is pressed against the wall... I'm gasping and moaning as you fuck me... god, Jim... show a little restraint, for fuck's sake... you can't have him thinking you melt like a schoolgirl at his touch... (*melt like a schoolgirl*?? Christ almighty…)_

_All right... then let's change gears and melt his brain...  I push back against you, taking you in deeper...  and smile with satisfaction as I hear you groan with pleasure..._

 

 

"FFFFFFFFuuuuckkkkk...god, Jim..." I can't believe how good you feel - god this is amazing, what an amazing world this is, in which one can experience such sensations... I'm probably not thinking quite reasonably, but honestly, this is amazing, fucking amazing... Jim... "God, I love you... Love your tight arse... It's impossibly incredible... You are... God, Jim... "

 

 

_My heart squeezes painfully, and I tense. Right... the Word was said... the Word was exchanged… I can't take it back now... can I?? Not at this moment... *I don't know*... quick, *do* something... What happens if I remove the negative charge of the Word... how does it feel to hear it from your lips?_

_I hear myself sigh with pleasure... feel my body relax... my muscles squeeze around your cock... there's a glow in my heart... I feel my eyes stinging, and I fight the threat of tears... oh god, don't start –_

_"Sebastian…" I murmur, desperately trying to fight back against the rising panic... “*Tiger*…”_

 

 

"Jim... I'm your Tiger... I'm yours Jim, all yours... god... You're so sexy... so sweet... so good... " I kiss your neck, reach around you, hug you close, move my hand to your cock, start stroking it, moving carefully out of you and back in.

 

 

_Panic is forgotten and my mouth drops open at the sensation of your hand on my cock as you fuck me... your chest against my back, so strong... oh Jesus... I wanted to melt your brain, not mine too... I squeeze hard around your cock, moving back against you... "Sebastian," I whisper..._

"Jim... my love... my lord... my everything... fuck... you're the hottest man _imaginable_... I can't believe I'm yours... Jim... I want to do _everything_ with you, everything you want, everything you can think of... You feel so fucking good, my love... my Jim... "

 

 

_*God*... is this what I've been missing out on by telling you to keep your mouth shut? Well, your submissive streak is clearly in place, even with your cock firmly up my arse... *my lord... my everything...*_

_*YES*... I guess I *don't* need to worry about you wandering off just because you have amnesia... A deep fear I didn't realize I was carrying is released... and I move my hands back to your arse cheeks, squeezing them hard, groaning as you pound into me..._

_"Oh fuck… *Tiger*..," I whimper, as I grind back against you._

 

 

"Certainly endeavouring to, Sir..." I pant, as I push into you again. I'm moving a bit harder now, faster, and you feel so good... "Jim... my Jim... I can't... this is _so fucking good_... I won't be able to last much longer... " I moan.

 

 

_"Fuck... *keep doing what you're doing, then*," I gasp, my cock throbbing in your hand. Desire has built up to an almost painful level and I thrust repeatedly into your hand, groaning loudly._

 

 

I move faster, harder, this is so incredibly good, I hope I'm not going to faint again, because you're going to kill me if I do, but fuck, this is so intense, I move my hand in the same rhythm, and that's it, I'm off on the path, nothing could stop me now, not even your Bene Gesserit voice, I am hurtling headlong down the hill towards orgasm, and it's going to be earthshattering - "Jim... god Jim I love you... I love you... _JIM_..."

 

 

_I've had to diffuse the negative charge each time I've heard the Word from your lips... it started with dread and terror, and then... somehow... there's something like pleasure moving through me at the sound... winding through me like a serpent, flicking its forked tongue... I eye it cautiously, but then... as it coils around me... that warm glow trickles through me..._

_Then all thoughts are driven from my head as you fuck me in earnest... I'm being slammed against the shower wall, crying out and gasping, as I hear you moan with pleasure... My nails dig into your arse cheeks hard, I'm quite sure I draw blood... and at *this* thought I'm coming in shuddering spurts into your hand and against the shower wall, as you continue to pound my arse, groaning my name..._

 

 

You're _incredible_ , you're so fucking hot, I pound inside you and you feel so good, so fucking good, I'm babbling, "Jim, Jim, Jim, I love you god you're so hot god you feel so good, Jim, Jim, my Jim..." I come like I've never come before, I am sure I haven't, I am not fainting not fainting not fainting... Jim... I'm shuddering, my seed spouting inside you, grasping you close, breathing, gasping, trying to catch my breath...

 

 

_I'm gasping for breath as you come hard in me, convulsing against my back... "I - love - you," escapes my lips in a tiny whisper, winging its way up through the water and steam. I'm pressed in between you and the shower wall, and you don't seem to be in a hurry to pull out. You struggle to catch your breath, leaning into me._

_I sigh in contentment. Suddenly I'm very aware of the heat in the room, the steam, your ragged breathing... I look back at you. "Sebastian," I say sharply. "Are you all right?"_

 

 

"Yeah... never been better... I'm fucking elated..." I grin. I'm still leaning on you, I'm not sure if I'll be able to stand on my own feet yet. I kiss your hair, your neck, your shoulder. I'm still inside you and it still feels so lovely... I think I could stay forever like this... "God, Jim, you're absolutely fucking magnificent..."

 

 

_"I am... I'm fucking magnificent... but you're not going to pass out, are you?" I demand. "Because if you're being reckless, and then you black out again..."_

 

 

"I am not going to pass out... I'm incredibly happy... I'm feeling fucking terrific..." I kiss you, carefully slide out of you, turn you round, kiss your cheek, then your mouth... pull you close for a deep, passionate tender kiss... I can't believe how far you have come... I know it must still be so hard for you to hear and to say the L-word, but you are doing so well, my narcissistic sadistic psychopath...

 

 

_I pull back from your kiss. "You better not be keeping anything from me..." I sing, softly... dangerously... Then I look at your lips, and kiss you possessively._

"No, _honest_ ," I murmur against your lips, cuddling you close. "I feel fine..." I really do. A bit light-headed, but my headache is less and I don't feel like I'm in any danger of passing out.

 

 

_"Hmm..." I pull back and narrow my eyes at you. "Is that the euphoria talking? I'll feel better when you're out of this steamy room and resting on the couch like you were supposed to be..." my lips quirk, "...wrapped in a blanket."_

 

 

"Oh for fuck- look, do you have any other films in your database than the one where the invalid is perpetually wrapped in a blanket? And yes, I do feel fine, honest. Let me finish washing you properly, and you or I can wash me, and then I'll rest on the sofa _all_ day..."

 

 

_"Oh, that's not up for debate, darling... your arse is staying on that sofa all day." I push your chest. "Yes, let's finish up and get you some breakfast..."_

 

 

I wash you properly, still enjoying the sensation of the smoothness of your skin, and you wash me, efficiently but sweetly, then we towel each other dry and you insist that I rest on the sofa while you make me breakfast. I don't argue - I've found that it's best not to - and stretch out on the sofa, throwing off the blasted blanket that you've put over me again - when will you acknowledge that getting one's head hurt has nothing to do with one's body temperature?

 

 

_It's most unusual to be puttering in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and coffee while you lounge on the sofa... total role reversal. But it doesn't bother me... it feels strangely comfortable. I'm playing music softly as I go, so as not to interfere with your DVD-watching._

_When I bring you a tray with breakfast, your face lights up and you coo sweet thank you's at me. It's all I can do to not jump into your lap and cover your face with kisses._

_Jesus fucking Christ... you are in *trouble*, Moriarty..._

_I bring my own tray and sit next to you. I look at you from the corner of my eye – you notice and you wink at me._

_*Fuck*. My heart slams in my chest and I hide my smile in my coffee cup._

 


	6. Why Am I in Love With You, Again?

That smells delicious - I realize I'm hungry. _And_ desperate for a coffee - _and_ a fag. I take a sip from the coffee - delicious - and tuck into the full English with gusto. Or I guess it's a full Irish. I don't know. It's massive, it's greasy, meaty, and salty - absolutely perfect.

 

 

_I watch your crime film as I eat but when I finish, I'm back to my laptop. Surveying the Empire, and specifically monitoring the situation with New York. I hadn't forgotten, but it had been pushed to the side while I was dealing with your condition. (Yes, and being convinced that blow jobs on the sofa and fucking in the shower were perfectly acceptable activities for recovery... stellar work, Moriarty.)_

_Disappearing into my realm, into my dark web, is such sweet relief after all the stress and confusion since yesterday. *I don't understand* why it all affected me so much... it shouldn't have... but *it did*. I should have just... what? Told Moran to stay put and just hope that he obeys every word I say? *I don't think it would have worked*... I *had* to be gentle and supportive. So he wouldn't decide he'd had enough of this bossy stranger giving him orders, and... just leave. He still has his own apartment, he could have demanded to know where it was and just *left*!_

_Gentle and supportive is *one* thing, I argue back. How exactly do you explain bursting into tears and telling him you love- *NO*. It's a glitch, caused by the stress of... dealing with the New York situation without having all the information, while my best employee was having a meltdown in my bedroom. There's something seriously flawed with that reasoning, but when I examine the flowchart in my mind... I see floating little hearts and... our initials? *Seriously, Jim*??  I get up from my laptop, snatch up our trays, and quickly_ _start cleaning up in the kitchen._

 

 

You’re hammering at your laptop like it’s done you a disservice so I don’t interrupt, don’t start up a new film when it finishes, just doze a bit. Try to find some recognition in the dark forest of my brain, but all I can see are bright billboards with your face on them, or golden statues of you (oh, you would have golden statues, no mere marble for Jim Moriarty), lovely oil paintings of you reclining on a divan... damn, brain... I’m _trying_ to find some lost memories here - I know my boss is hot as hell, but I really could do with _some_ other info in my head...

Not happening it appears... Between the shiny and rather explicit images of you, all is dark and impenetrable (unlike you - _shut UP, brain_!!!).

I am half aware of you closing your laptop and clearing up the trays... you are so sweet...

I doze off...

 

 

_As I'm cleaning up rather obsessively, I look over and see that you're sleeping. My shoulders sag with relief. Not only does it mean you're following orders and resting, but... things just feel easier to deal with when you're not conscious. Yes - no question that I'm a psychopath..._

_I quietly head towards my office to make a few calls, a few threats, and see what I can suss out about this New York debacle...  I turn back for a moment to look at you. You're sleeping like a big muscular lump, an arm and both legs hanging off the sofa... My eyes narrow at the blanket tossed on the floor in a heap... and then soften as I see your face. You look younger when you sleep... and today... you look peaceful... happy. The thought sends a jolt through me. I turn and hurry from the room._

 

 

I’m in the forest waiting for my mark but it’s night and I forgot my infrared scope. Stupid fucker - and it’s too late to go back. I’ll have to let my eyes adjust to the dark, but it’s a dark moon and cloudy and the foliage is thick - I struggle to see my own gun.

I lie still, listening for the sound of anyone coming nearer, but except for the occasional nocturnal animal it’s quiet.

My stomach itches and I think I should have worn clothes - I’m way too visible lying here naked. Also it’s getting cold. Where is that bloody mark?

I hear someone walking through the forest - whistling Rivers of Babylon - it must be you. I need to warn you to be quiet but I don’t have my phone because I don’t have pockets. Damn - the mark is going to see you and run - or worse, attack you. Should I risk getting up to warn you? Or will you get mad for me leaving my post? Fuck... there he is. I see a shadow stalking through the trees, walking towards the sound of your whistling. I shoot - and the moment the bullet leaves my gun I know I’ve missed. It flies past the mark - hits you - you look at me with fury on your face - oh no –

“Jim!!!” I cry out - wake myself up, sitting up on the sofa, looking around bewildered - where am I?!

 

 

_I'm in the middle of threatening the lackey on the phone (on Mr Moriarty's behalf) when I hear you scream my name. "I expect this information by the end of the day, or - so- much – blood - " I snap, and hang up. *Not* my most creative threat, I think as I tear out of my office and run down the stairs - but succinct. By the time I reach the living room, I've already cued up the number of my doctor. "What's wrong?" I demand, grabbing your shoulders._

 

 

Where the fuck am I? I'm not at home - whose living room is this?

Some guy is running in - who the fuck!? Where's my gun? Where the _fuck_ is my gun!?! I'll have to jump him - he's - demanding to know what's wrong - what - wait - _love - darling - JIM_ -

I do jump you, clasping you firmly in my arms. "Sorry love - it was just a nightmare - are you alright?!"

 

 

_"Am *I* alright?? You're the one who was screaming! I thought you were-" I fall onto the sofa. I cover my face with my hand, and heave a sigh. "So you had a nightmare…"_

 

 

Yeah. Well done for screaming the house down, Sebastian.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "I dreamt - I was on a mission and I missed and I shot you instead. That didn't actually ever happen did it?" I ask, worried.

 

 

_I raise an eyebrow. "No," I say wryly. "That did *not* happen. You are without a doubt the most effective, efficient, professional assassin and marksman I've ever encountered. And if you rest up, you can hopefully be doing what you do best by tomorrow..." I look at you, trying to force my irritation away. "How is your head feeling?"_

 

 

Oh. Looks like good mood is over again. Well, that didn't last long. Why am I in love with this guy, again? "My head's fine. Look, are you always such cheerful and warm company?"

 

 

_That gets a genuine laugh. "Oh, Sebastian... if only you knew how funny that is! Thank you, I needed that..." I cover my mouth with my hand and giggle helplessly._

 

 

"Don't see what's funny about it." I feel surly - oh, of course - I need coffee and a cigarette. Still. You could be a bit nicer. "Why am I in love with you, again? I mean, you're hot, obviously, but... you don't seem very nice, do you?"

 

 

_I grin at you. "It's funny precisely because I'm *not* nice... I'm as far from *nice* and *cheerful* and *warm* as you can get. And it didn't seem to bother you before, if you went and fell in love with me, did it? Which you never actually expressed before, by the by... this is the first I've heard of it."_

 

 

"Well, it might just be the head injury then..." I growl. I light a fag - I'll have a coffee after this.

 

 

_Something clicks and grinds slowly in my head. I'm deciding whether to be amused or patient or... "*What* might just be the head injury, Sebastian...?" I ask in a silky voice._

 

 

"Being in love with you - as allegedly this is the first you've heard of it. I mean - I'm _obviously_ crazy about you, all I can think of is you, all I can feel is desire for you - but I struggle to see why sometimes. You seem hard work, and not much reward."

 

 

_I'm laughing again, but it sounds far less mirthful. I feel blackness sweep through me, and *why* am I not letting it out again??  WHY am I stopping myself??_

_Because!! AMNESIA, HEAD TRAUMA, CRIPPLING FEAR OF SEBASTIAN DYING OR LEAVING..._

_FINE... NO FLIPPING OUT THEN... NO MATTER HOW REASONABLE A RESPONSE IT WOULD BE!!_

_"Well, Sebastian..." I say, struggling to keep my composure and my patience intact. "You're right, you know... we have no idea how you actually felt." Rational thought, good, *yes*..._

_"All we know for certain is - this experience has uncovered some feelings for me. And expressing them has uncovered some feelings for *you*..." I try not to grind my teeth._

_"But I can't pretend to be someone I'm *not*... I have no idea who you even want me to be! What do you want from me?!"  
_

_Somehow I've flipped from a cool, rational tone to something more heated... angry, frustrated, and... pleading??_

 

 

"I don't know! I don't know who _I_ am, I don't know who you are, I know _nothing_!!! And it's frightening! And whenever I try to think of _anything_ , all I see is you! You fill up my mind, my body, my... everything, and it makes me feel... I don't know! It feels great like this morning, when we're together, and you're sweet and caring, but then you go all edgy and irritable and I wonder - what am I doing? What have we been doing? You say we just kind of lived side by side, shagging, but not talking, not doing stuff together - so I must have had _some_ kind of life outside of you, but I don't _remember_ and you're not _telling_ me and so I just feel _lost_ when you're not here, when you're cold with me, because you are _ALL I FUCKING GOT_!!!"...

I didn't mean to start crying... fuck's sake, soldier, pull yourself together... I swallow my tears, hope you don't see the dampness in my eyes.

 

 

_"Sebastian... Sebastian..." I murmur and grasp your shoulders. "I'm... sorry this is so hard for you, and for all the ways I'm not what you need. I wish you could have a better person to help you through it. All right?? But I am who I am! Apparently I'm capable of a little change - which is a bloody lot for me, I promise you! -  but if you prefer to hold off on making any decisions until your memory comes back..." I trail off, panicking._

_Is that what I want? I thought all of this was a giant pain the arse, and I wanted it to go back to normal... What do I *want*?? I look at you with wide eyes._

 

 

"Decisions? Decisions on what?" What are you talking about?

 

 

_"I mean, it... sounded like you weren't sure if you wanted to..." I take a breath. "_

_It sounded like you weren't sure if you actually wanted..." Bloody perfect. Stammer like an idiot, that'll help._

_My mouth tightens and I glare at the wall. I would very much like to destroy that wall..._

 

 

Oh my god. You think I'm going to leave you. You think I'm not sure if I want to be with you. Well that's what I said, kind of, wasn't it? But - I didn't _mean_ \- I couldn't, could never - Jim -

Before I know what I'm doing I'm on my knees before you, putting my face between you and the wall you are staring daggers at.

"Jim - Jim, I'm sorry - I'm confused, I'm grumpy, I need a coffee... Jim... look at me..." You look at my face, wary... "Jim - I just told you, I have _nothing_ to go on, I don't know who I am, where I've been, what I do - but despite my entire mind having been wiped clean, everything I am tells me I belong with you, that I love you, that I would do _anything_ for you... I'm sorry I said I didn't know why... I probably got up on the wrong side of the... couch..."

 

_Somehow... you end up on your knees before me, without one memory of what our relationship had been like._

_Somehow... I'm staring deeply into your eyes. How have I never really seen them before?_

_Somehow... I'm successful at stopping myself from crying. Again._

_"Why? Because you're right, I'm not a... loving person, and you're- so-"_

_Furiously, I try to blink back my tears again - but this time I fail._

 

 

"I'm so loving? Loving enough for both of us?" I see your eyes fill with tears - leaking out - your furious expression - I throw my arms around you, hug you close.

"You _are_ a loving person, and I'm so sorry I implied you weren't - you are not warm and cheerful, but so many people aren't, but you show your love in so many ways - you've been so caring, so sweet, so concerned... your cursed blanket on me all the time, holding me to make sure I don't fall, making me food and drink, threatening innocent paramedics, coming running in a panic when I've had a nightmare - saying you love me, which you'd never admitted, just because I insisted..." I end in a whisper, my own eyes leaking.

 

 

_Your arms around me..._

_*You're not leaving*..._

_I let out a long slow breath that I didn't know I was holding..._

_*You're not leaving*..._

_My hands slowly rise to your back, and flex from claws to paws._

_"Mine," I whisper with longing, and close my eyes._

 

 

"Yours, Jim. I'm so sorry I made you doubt," I whisper in your ear. "I just - I must be a lot more demanding now than I usually am, and I'm sorry. I'm sure when things get back to normal I'll be a lot less hard to deal with.

But... even when everything I've ever been has evaporated, this remains - you remain. You are at the very core of what I am, whatever that is. And - if that doesn't show you how incredibly _yours_ I am..."

 

_It feels like my defences are under assault... chunks of the imposing, protective walls around me are flying off, landing in a pile of rubble. I remember dimly what you said yesterday - that you would protect me from within my armour... I blink again, and my eyes sting with tears._

_I realize then and only then... whatever happens with your amnesia... we can't go back..._

_*We can never go back*..._

_My arms slide all the way around you, and I rest my wet face against your shoulder._

 

 

My poor Jim - this must be so hard on you. I don't know how things were beforehand, but from what I gather from you it seems that I was a lot more biddable - though I can hardly imagine that... Do personalities change when one loses one's memory? But I might have had other hobbies, interests - other friends - I wonder, but this is not the time to ask. And it's not like they've been calling me to find out how I am.

But your tears touch me deep inside my core and make me equal measures of agonized and elated - agonized, because seeing you suffer cuts deep inside me, and I'd do _anything_ to make you feel better - elated, because god, you do love me, you love me so much...

"My Jim... My sweet dear Jim... I am so sorry. I love you. I really do, it's the only thing I know for sure, and that's why I needed to have your reciprocation - it's literally the only certainty I have. The way my body, my heart, my soul respond to you, when everything else leaves me cold - you are everything to me Jim. Must always have been. I realize this is hard for you - I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have made it hard on you..."

 

 

_"You have nothing to apologize for, Sebastian…" I say in a quiet, wavering voice. "It *is* hard for me... I haven't had to deal with emotions since I was a child - but that's hardly your fault. You're doing the best you can in a difficult situation. And... I hope you know I am, too. Even if it doesn't seem like it..." I sigh, feeling wistful. "I thought we would go back to the way they were... when you get your memory back. The truth is- the truth is - " I falter._

_(Shut up, Jim... *Shut up*...)_

_"I - wouldn't- want - to -" I finish in a whisper._

_It's done, Moriarty... And if it damns me... *So. Be. It*._

 

 

Oh.

Oh...

OH.

_JIM._

You yelp as you find yourself literally _pounced_ and covered in kisses. I realize - I can see it in your face, I can tell from the way you've been so far, from the way my body, my heart jump up - this is a _massive_ thing for you.

"But - Jim - I want you to... be happy with how we are... Don't change on my behalf..."

 

 

_I let out a sound that’s a half-laugh, half-moan. “Oh, Tiger... something like this? It’s not possible without change. It’s already started... as for being happy, well - that’s a tall order for me, but -“ I sigh and pull back to look at you, afraid of how it will make me feel. You’re looking concerned and happy and so very sweet._

_“But - I don’t even remember what I was going to say…” I give up, and return to pressing my face against you._

 

 

"I'll do my best to make you happy... You're so sweet... I know you're going to say you're not, but I'm the invalid, indulge me..."

I hold you close - for the first time, you seem so vulnerable, so lovable... I feel so protective...

"And - what you were saying - about how we usually are - sexually... that sounded... incredibly hot, to be honest... I don't think I'd like to change that... your words just all made me shiver whenever you talked about that... I don't know, is it - incompatible for you, with feelings I mean? It shouldn't - I mean, you obviously had feelings for me before, you just didn't admit it..."

 

 

_“Incompatible? I don’t know, darling- I never had feelings for anyone...” I feel your hands stroking me, soothing me. “Before,” I amend. “I suppose if I felt something for you yesterday during sex... then... it’s possible?” I shrug. “I don’t actually know what I’m doing... it’s as big a mystery to me as your past is to you...” My arms tighten around you of their own accord._

 

 

"Well, it's a big adventure for both of us then..." I grin as I pull you closer. "I'd love to explore it all with you... and I am feeling _a lot_ better... why don't you show me some of what we get up to and we can both fill in an evaluation form for your flowcharts afterwards?" I kiss your neck - god, you taste good...

 

 

_I find myself tilting my head back, closing my eyes. Wait, wait, wait... Tiger is supposed to be resting, and we’ve already fucked once. How is *your* head injury affecting *me* so much?_

_“Sebastian,” I warn. “What are you supposed to be doing today?”_

"Don't remember Sir... lost my memory..." I grin, kissing your ear.

 

 

_I laugh, despite myself. “Bad... undisciplined... Tiger...”_

 

 

"I know, Sir... horrible... you loosen the reigns for one day, and they waltz all over you... one really must be unrelenting in one's discipline..." I breathe, as I nuzzle a spot just below your ear that seems sensitive from the gooseflesh that rises up on your neck.

 

 

_“Exactly what I was thinking...” I grumble. Your mouth on my skin... is not only delicious, but it’s helping me forget all about the stress and discomfort and panic since yesterday. Hmmm... is discipline too risky to do in your condition?  I suppose I could just keep from getting too hardcore until you’re recovered. Wait... am I actually considering this??_

_Relax, Jim... you’re not going to hit him in the head, for fuck’s sake..._

_Are you??_

_*Of course not*..._

_I take a deep breath. “Do you feel up to something... a little intense?”_

 

 

"Yes..." I pant, "God, yes..."

I didn't know how much I longed for you to say that until I hear my response. It appears I don't need my damaged brain for this... my body, my heart, my voice know exactly how to respond. My cock responds eagerly, and I find myself sliding off the sofa, back onto my knees on the ground, looking up at you with my eyes large, my mouth slightly open - waiting for you, waiting on you to decide what to do with me... and that feels so _right,_ so - _fitting_... I could stay here forever...

And god you look awesome in the literal sense of the word - filling me with awe... Is this - is this how you usually look? Because that would explain a lot - you look like - an angel, a demon, a demigod, the devil himself... and I just want to worship at your feet, would kill for a single touch from you... _wow_. This is already pretty intense.

 

 

_I can feel my eyes flashing with desire at your response. How could you know... how could you possibly know what I want, to do this without remembering...?_

_"All right then, Tiger..." I breathe._

_*Oh god*..._

_I lean back against the sofa. "Why are you wearing so many clothes?"_

 

 

Why indeed?

"I don't know, Sir... I'll remedy the situation forthwith..."

I keep looking into your eyes as I grab my t-shirt and pull it up, only breaking eye contact for the second it takes to pull it over my head. I drop it on the floor beside me, then start unbuttoning my trousers... god, your eyes... unfathomable depths that a person could easily get lost in...

Somehow I have undone my trousers and need to move my knees to push them off my legs. I manage to without breaking eye contact. My pants go with them - this is not a striptease, this is remedying a situation that was undesirable to you.

I am naked on my knees in front of you, staring into your eyes, lost, hypnotized.

 

 

_I'm watching you disrobe, eyeing you hungrily. Desire moves through me in a wave, and my cock hardens._

_The sight of you on your knees... your eyes such deep pools of blue..._

_Surrendering to me without knowing what lies ahead..._

_Just like the very first time... but I won't be like I was then..._

_I stand, and hold your chin in my hand. "Sebastian...Trust that I'll be careful with you - but if anything feels too much, or you're not feeling well, you must promise to tell me... understood?"_

 

 

"Yes, Sir..." I breathe. I'm already so fucking mesmerized I can't imagine anything will be too much, but - I do realize you are a sadistic psychopath and some of the scars on my body do look uncomfortable and... I don't care, just touch me, Sir, touch me...

I raise my hand to the one that's holding my chin, take it, press a kiss to it, reverentially, then let it go again, my hands at my sides, looking up at you.

 _Yours_...

 

 

_"It's all coming back to you, Tiger..." I murmur. "Stand up." I remove my hand from your chin._

_You stand, watching me with longing. I will give you *everything* you want and more..._

_"Bedroom, darling..." I say and follow you as you walk, staring at your arse with lust._

_I watch closely as you take the stairs... no faltering, no hesitation... good. When you reach the bedroom, I take your arm and pull you gently past the bed. I point to the hooks in the ceiling. "See those hooks I had you install? You're going to pull a cord through each..." You look fascinated. I go to the closet and bring you thick leather cords, attached to leather cuffs. I watch as you stretch up, and move the cords through the hooks._

_"Raise your arms, Tiger..." I whisper._

 

 

This - this is where it happens? Shouldn't I feel _something_ coming back - some kind of recognition? I must have held onto those cords stretching up so much... But no, nothing... Nothing _conscious_ at least. My body is taut with anticipation, my heart is racing, my cock is tingling...

Your whisper - your whisper... even if you didn't have that voice thing, I wouldn't want to ignore the command, but my arms are rising before I can think about it - my body is conditioned to respond to you without conscious interference, that's clear... as to how that conditioning happened... well I guess we're about to find out...

God... I want to touch you, want to kiss you, but that will have to happen after. Now, there's just obedience... and anticipation... and submission.

 

 

_I stretch up, slide a wrist into the leather cuff, buckle securely... pull on the end of the cord until your arm is held tight... secure the cord to another hook on the wall. Go to the other side. Repeat._

_Tiger secured and waiting..._

_and ohhh, what a sight that is..._

_I walk around you, my hand trailing along your chest. When I'm behind you, I grasp one arse cheek, and then the other. I suddenly press myself against your back, and hear you gasp._

_"You agreed that you're mine - now I'm going to show you what that means..."_

 

 

Yes - there is some fear. I'd be insane if there weren't - but wait, I am, aren't I? Anyway - the fear is infinitesimal compared to the excitement, the anticipation, the lust... The _worst_ thing that could happen to me now would be for you to change your mind and untie me and put me back on that infernal sofa. I _want_ to know what it means to be yours, I want to be yours like I've never wanted anything... not that I would know... but... the want is intense, is immense... Jim... my love, my dark lord...

"Yes... I'm yours, Jim... Sir... Yours... Completely..."

 

 

_"I’m Sir to you only, unless you hear otherwise," I growl at your ear, and then catch it in my teeth. Your intake of breath is like heaven, and we've only just got started. I pull back, and dig my fingers into your arse cheeks, and then my nails._

_"Your arse is mine..." I say in a dark voice like ripping silk. "That means I can do with it as I like, Sebastian..."_

If I weren't tied to those hooks I would slide to the ground at the sound of your voice. As it is, my knees buckle and I hang helplessly from my wrists... My eyes close, my mouth opens - oh god, did I think I was approaching ecstasy this morning? This - this is - my mind is a blank, unable to think of anything but your hands on me, your _voice_...

"Yours," I barely breathe. "Yours, Sir..."

_I continue circling around you, my hand gently moving against your hip and abdomen._

_"Your cock is mine," I say breathily. "Which means... you come when *I* say..." My hand moves slowly down, down, down to your groin... encircles your cock... and squeezes. "Are we clear, darling..."_

 

 

Fuck... oh god yes touch me Sir, touch me... I promise I won’t come unless you want me to... I wouldn’t dream of it...

“Yes, Sir...” I moan, “all of me is yours... and I come when you tell me...”

I very much suspect that with the way you have my body conditioned to respond to you, I actually _would_ come if you ordered me to... god, how do you have such an effect on me?! It’s like hypnosis...

 

 

_I squeeze a little harder. "You're one step ahead of me, my dear... but you knew where this was heading, clever Tiger..." I grab hold of your face with both hands, taking care not to jostle your head. "You. Are. Mine." I say in my feral voice. "Your body is mine. Your voice is mine.  Your pleasure is mine."_

_I move my face closer, your eyes pinioned by my gaze. "Tell me you understand, Sebastian..."_

 

 

Your face... god your face... how does it change so much... you look _nothing_ like you looked when you were being sweet and caring, nothing like you looked when you were cold and distant, you just look...   otherworldly. Your eyes make me shiver, your brows framing them, highlighting the darkness, the depth... I could get lost staring into those eyes... But I can't, because the eyes demand something, the voice has commanded, and the eyes will not tolerate delay...

"I understand, Sir... I'm yours. Mind, body, heart and soul. Everything... Everything I have, everything I am... yours..."

 

 

_"Your heart..." My hand trails over your chest. "Your soul... mine now, too? I didn't even know anything was missing, Sebastian... Until *you* forced me to realize there was more to have..." I move my hand to your face, caress your cheek. "And to *want* more... I won't say it's unwelcome, Sebastian. But I've had some very disconcerting realizations in the last 24 hours... there's been a lot of upset... and someone must be made to pay..." I smile fiercely as I gaze into your eyes. "_

_Who's going to pay for it, Tiger?" I murmur._

 

 

"I'll gladly pay, Sir..." I'd be delighted to pay for the privilege of hearing you say you love me... "I'm sorry I caused you upset, Sir, and I realize that there are consequences... I'll accept whatever you deem fit, Sir..."

Bloody hell I'm a submissive role model, aren't I? I wonder if that's me, or if it's your conditioning... It just - feels _perfect_ \- so natural...

 

 

_"Someone's very chatty..." I remark. "You never used to be... Hmm..." I gaze into your eyes. "When I determine how I feel about it, you'll know. In the meantime, continue to speak when you're spoken to, and you'll be fine.  Well, *fine* isn't really the right word... after all, you did agree you needed to pay for making such a mess - delightful though it's been. Shhh... that's my little secret, darling..."_

_I circle your chest with my arms. "It's been an - *absolutely - delightful- mess*-" I drag my nails down hard across your back as I speak, and grin up at you. You close your eyes, gasping._

_*Mmmm... I'm feeling better already*..._

 

 

 _Here we go_...  I've felt your nails before, and love it... your closeness, your touch... the pain... delicious pain... delicious because it's _you_ , you are pain, and I love you, and I want to feel you... I want to feel you so much...

 

 

_I walk around you to look at my claw marks. "Keep those eyes closed, darling..." I sing, running my fingers over the lightly bleeding scratches. I walk over to the walk-in closet, where I peruse the wall of tools and equipment I have to choose from. *Start slow, Jim*... I select a nice, snappy signal whip, and walk quietly to where you stand waiting with eyes closed. I plant a soft kiss on your shoulder, and you jump. "I'm *baa-aack*..." I say softly._

 

 

Eyes closed - waiting for you... Waiting for what will come, what you decide to do to me... Waiting for pain... Waiting to be disciplined... Aching for your nails across my skin...

Wait - that's a song. It's lyrics to a song. I recall a song. What else is there? _Waiting for the day when I will crawl away_... Well that's not going to happen. I'll never ever want to get away from you. But - a song. I'll have to ask you if you know it - maybe it's on one of my CDs...

You touch my shoulder and I jump - songs will have to come later - _here's Jim_...

 

 

_I plant another kiss on your other shoulder, my hands on your back. I continue to kiss along your scratch marks. "Primed... ready..." I whisper, and step back. "You can open your eyes, love..."_

_I look at you - tall, strong...  broad-shouldered, muscular... gorgeous arse... And I can practically feel your anticipation radiating off you in waves... You really are the perfect man for me. Another jolt moves through me at the thought, and I have to catch my breath. All right, Sebastian... now you have *two* things to pay for... I bring my arm back, and let the whip fly._

_*Snap*..._

_Not enough to break skin, not this time..._

_But enough for you to feel what I like... what you used to like..._

_do you still like it, Sebastian? I think, faltering._

_*Snap*_

 

 

_Pain-_

Yes, that’s pain.

I don’t think I’ve- no, of course I have - all the scars, the things Jim said - I just can’t recall - but I must have experienced a lot of pain. Must have-

 _More pain_ \- fuck - this _hurts_. Well, yeah. Wasn’t that what you wanted? Well yes, but it’s hard - it’s hard to bear -

 _More_ \- oh god. Oh god, this- I can’t- can’t -

I’m squirming, trying to get away, but I can’t - and I don’t want to – god, this is hard...

 

 

_Something about the way you're reacting... is different. Your body is moving away from the pain, not giving in to it..._

_"Sebastian... Tell me what you're feeling, darling," I say firmly._

_Silence._

_"Sebastian, I need to know. Whatever it is - I won't be upset, my love..." I walk around you, place a hand against your cheek, and look into your eyes searchingly._

 

 

"No, it's - it's good, it's good - it's just - I'm not used to it... I mean I know I am, but - I don't remember - don't know how to deal with the sudden pain. I _want it_ , I longed for it; long for it now... Now you've stopped, I want nothing more than for you to start again, but - it's pain. It makes your body wince and try to get away. I'm not sure - how do I normally respond? Do I just stand there? Do I moan in pleasure? Do - "

My brain catches up with me.

"You called me love..." I stare at you, wide-eyed.

_I tilt my head and observe you as you speak. "Did I?" I ask, a smile playing on my lips._

_"I suppose I did... a lot of things are happening in this strange territory we find ourselves in - this no man's land where the old rules don't seem to apply... A masochistic submissive doesn't remember how to handle pain... A sadistic psychopath is fixated on somebody else's feelings... We seem to have tumbled down a rabbit hole, and we're still falling... and I'm not sure if we'll end up in some dimension of hell, or bloody Wonderland. But for now, let's proceed with cautious optimism." I look at you, assessing._

_"The point is not to follow some prescribed notion of how you think you should be reacting... You respond honestly. If you want to moan, you moan. If you feel nothing, then ... we'll have to recalibrate. You liked the pain from my nails? But not from the whip?"_

 

 

"No no no!!! I liked it! I - did... really like it," I swallow. "It's hard to explain - like, my body recoils because it's a shock, but at the same time wants to welcome it. So it's this dual force of - push and pull. I _want_ your pain, god I do, and I love your whip - but when it lands, it's – well, the body is conditioned to avoid pain, I guess? So normally I'd be better able to ignore that impulse, because I want the pain, but now I had no idea what was coming, so I just - my body just went 'hey wait what the fuck is happening - danger - avoid', I guess. But - I loved it. I mean - look at me," I nod down to my proudly erect cock. "And - it's just the initial shock. After a few seconds, I just want more... I'm sorry, I don't know how I normally respond. I didn't mean to turn you off or anything."

I look at you - is that a pleading look on my face? Oh god, it must be. But - please don't stop... Please don't... Every moment you're not whipping me I long for it more...

 

 

_I look down at your cock, and smile knowingly. "Someone's happy, all right... your body knows what you want. I think it's just your head that's getting in the way... telling you you're supposed to act a certain way... like you did before. Well, fuck *supposed to*, Sebastian... react how you fucking *want*..." I snarl, and seize your cock in my hand. "How does it *feel*, Tiger?"_

"It feels - fucking majestic, Sir..." I pant at that. "It's mostly - I don't know what to expect, I guess. But now I know - and now I just want nothing more than to feel it again... I promise I'll respond... naturally..."

I really can't imagine my earlier recoil at the pain any more - I so fucking _long_ for it now...

 

 

_"Good. Because this isn't theatre, darling. Well, there’s a theatrical *element* to it, of course. Especially in the *original* sense – theatre as religious ritual, theatre as catharsis. But there's to be no playacting here, or that *will* make me cross. And then there will be no rewards for you..." I say sadly. I firmly stroke your cock, then lightly drag my nails over it. "Do you *want* me to whip you, Sebastian?" I ask, giving you a piercing look._

 

 

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. Your hand on my cock... I moan at that... and then your words... _YES_...

"Yes, Sir... Yes... Please, whip me..." I pant. I need it... I _so_ need it... please...

 

 

_I kiss you hard. I slide my tongue into your mouth, and you're moaning and kissing me back. When I pull back, you look delirious with desire. "Well, if you *really* want me to..." I say, eyes gleaming. "And you did ask so nicely..."  I walk around you, stroking you firmly from your nipples to your back.  "I suppose I could be convinced..." I whisper. "To reintroduce you to pleasure in pain... because it is all about pleasure, Tiger..."_

_*Snap*_

_"So - much - pleasure - " I breathe, throwing my head back and closing my eyes._

 

 

Oh _FUCK_. That feels - so much different. I so longed for that and it feels like - deliverance, a release - I moan with pleasure - yes, you're right - pleasure...

More - please - Jim - I mean Sir... god... devil... whatever you are... please deliver me from this... please... please...

"Please..."

 

 

_Your breathing... your posture... your voice... *my Sebastian*..._

_I apply the whip slowly at first, against your back and shoulders..._

_"Mmm... you are just *so delicious*... you're feeling it now, aren't you, Tiger..."_

 

 

"Yes... yes Sir..." God this feels so different - why is that? Because I now know what to expect? Because I longed for it so much? Because it's going slower, so I have more time to digest each dose of pain? Or - doesn't it matter? Because this is _you_ and I _love_ you, I _love_ your pain, I _love_ your touch...

"God, I love you..."

 

 

_I'm lashing you just as you say it, but the intake of breath is mine._

_*Here*? You're saying the word *here*?_

_It feels like... swearing in church... (which you'd think I'd like...?)_

_I think back to when you were questioning why you would love me and I thought you were retracting it... how much that - *hurt*._

_And everything that followed... everything's different now, Jim... everything..._

_I slowly raise the whip..._

_"You - diabolical - incorrigible - Tiger - " I say seductively. "Are you trying to get me to say it while I whip you, Sebastian?"_

_I lash down on your arse, grinning wildly._

 

 

 _Pain_ – god, yes - and - was that _you_ gasping? Because - because I said I love you? But - you said I could say what I wanted... no holding back... no acting... and I love you I love you god I love you so much... How did I ever survive not saying that? Did I not love you before? _Impossible_... My entire being is focussed on you; I can't not have... God, I'm so glad I can just say it... even though you still don't seem entirely comfortable with me saying it... Though... That _tone_ in your voice...

 _Lash_ \- oh god, _so_ good... so unbearable... so unbearably good...

"Yes Sir... You _love_ whipping me, don't you? Don't you love _me_ writhing under your lash?"

 

 

_I chuckle. "Careful, Sebastian... you're straying close to the line..."_

_I lash down on your other arse cheek._

_"But you always did have a *mouth* on you, darling..."_

_*lash*_

_"And I did tell you could speak when I asked you a question... well, Sebastian... in fact, I *do* love to whip you..."_

_*lash*_

_"And I *do* love to see you writhe, knowing I'm the one who's causing it..." I whisper._

_*lash*_

_"And I *do so love* to hear you moan... cry out... scream... all, all for me..." I say, breathily._

_The lashing increases in speed over your arse and thighs._

 

I'm not sure what's affecting me more, your lashes or your words... but together, they're an intoxicating combination that makes me moan, gasp... and if you want me to cry out and scream, that's fine, that's great, I want you to be able to do _anything_ you want with me, play me like you want me, I'll make any noise you like...

I notice you haven't said the three-word combo yet, but that's alright... I know you love me...

The pain increases in intensity, but I've got accustomed to it now and it's... agony, but bliss... every lash makes me feel more _yours_ \- yours to do with as you want, which is so incredibly hot... god this is... is this just because I'm experiencing it for the first time or is it always so incredibly amazingly fucking intense...?

You are incredible... You know what you're doing with that whip, and what you're doing is driving me _insane_... which allegedly I am; which makes sense... God Jim... No wonder my body knew to fall to its knees in front of you - I would right now if I could... I want to touch you, kiss you, worship you... but more than that I want you to take your pleasure from me in whatever way you want. _God_...

You didn't ask a question, so I can't speak... I don't know what I'd say, anyway... I just groan...

 

 

_"And I love that you're *mine*, to do with as I like..." I pant, admiring the red lines that are blossoming over your skin._

_The lashing is reaching a crescendo, and I know I need to draw it to a close momentarily..._

_"And I will do as I like, Sebastian... I *will*..." I say, ecstasy moving through me. "Because I love to hurt you... I love to fuck you... you ridiculous - magnificent Tiger..."_

_*lash lash lash*..._

_I drop the whip, stumble to you and press myself against your back, my arms circling around you._

_"You're mine, Sebastian..." I whisper against your neck. “I want you… I love you...”_

 

 

Yes, yours... yours...

Pain... pain proving that I'm yours, that I'll do anything, bear anything...

Yes, do as you like with me, please, use me, any way you desire... I _love_ you hurting me... I love you fucking me...

Pain... so much pain, lashes melting together into one, pain taking over my mind, release... no more thoughts, just being... being pain.. being your pleasure...

The lashing stops, but the pain remains, glowing through me, and then there's You, and You say You love me, You want me, Your hands are all over me, and I'm Yours... You said You Love me... tears spring into my eyes - I'm sure I don't normally do that, stop it soldier, don't freak him out - but - god...

"I'm yours, Sir... completely yours... and I want you... I love you... " I pant...

 

 

_I cover your back, striped and swollen, with kisses._

_"Such - a - beautiful - Tiger -" I reach into my bedside table for a soothing cream, and rub it gently into your skin, from your back to your thighs in gentle, sweeping motions. You let out a long sigh, and close your eyes._

_When I'm done, I look at your body- fresh with my marks, and secured to my ceiling... suddenly desire burns through me, and I'm grabbing your arse with both hands, and fastening my teeth to your neck._

_"I'm going to fuck that arse now, Sebastian... because it belongs to me. And I'll tell you when you can come, because that beautiful cock belongs to me..." I stroke it firmly, and your head falls back. "Would you like that, Sebastian?"_

 

 

_YesYesOhGodYes..._

I'm delirious, fuck I'd recommend losing your memory to anyone, if this is how fucking _intense_ it feels when you get into sadomasochistic sex with your adored psychopathic boss for the first time afterwards...

I think I could _really_ come from just you ordering me to now, and how insane is that... But you fucking me... oh god _yes_... and I'll be good, I'll not come unless you tell me to... just fuck me...

" _Yes_... Sir... Yes oh god, please, fuck me..."

 

 

_"*Fuck yes*, I will..." I mutter, and stride to the wall. I unfasten the leather cords from the hook, and yank them down, freeing you. Then I grab your leather cuffs and drag you to the bed... where I push you onto your back. I lean over you to fasten the cuffs together to attach them to another hook just underneath the headboard. I stand on the bed, looking down at you._

_Your cock is hard and twitching. I look at you, and smile slyly._

_"Ready for me, Tiger?"_

 

 

I wince as my whipped back touches the sheets - and before I know it I’m tied up again, to a hook underneath the headboard - god, you have these everywhere, to tie me to? Fuck, how hot is that?!

You’re standing over me, smiling down on me, and you look amazing - not a hair out of place, as if you’ve just come from a short stroll in the park...

Am I ready for you? I was born ready for you...

“Yes, Sir...”

It seems like that’s all I’m saying for the past bit, but there’s such profundity in those words...

I look up at you longingly, waiting for you to take me...

 

 

_I slowly remove my shirt, and toss it to the floor. Then the trousers... And now I'm standing naked before you, revelling in your rapt expression. I smile down at you._

_"Was it all you thought it would be, darling?"_

 

 

 “I had no idea... really no idea and it was... amazing... still is... man, I’d recommend losing your memory to anyone... this is like my first time and it’s... fucking epic. You are. You’re overwhelming and incredible and... just... wow. Sir.”

 

 

_"Oh, that? Just a taste... Let's just get you better, darling. And then..." I lower myself onto the bed, and  put my hands on your calves. "I can show you some more..." I move your knees up. "But right now... I want to fuck this sweet arse, and see what sounds you'll make... " I lower my hand to your opening, and gently run my fingers over it._

 

 

I'm... you're... last time you used lubricant... are you not going to now? Will it be painful? Do I care? Of course not... I'm yours, you can do whatever you like with me.

"I feel better... so much better... And yes, please, fuck me Sir..."

Shit, was that an imperative? "I'd love you to fuck me..." Better?

 

 

_I'm about to chastise you for speaking without being asked a question... but I find myself enjoying the sound of your voice. Hmm... something else to consider. Add it to the mind map..._

_I reach over to the nightstand and pull out a small tube from the drawer. I look at you pointedly. "Is this what's making you look so nervous, darling? I'm not a monster... well, I *am*.  Just behave, and you won't find out what it's like... since you don't remember," I add slyly. I add lube to my fingers, staring at you as I do. I slide in one finger and watch your face._

 

 

Oh god you're _inside_ me... just your finger but... it feels so right, so appropriate... you are inside me all the time, you're all I feel, all I can think about... having the physical sensation to go with that just makes it... more right.

I look into your eyes, watching me intently... like a cat watching if his prey will escape? Or like a lover watching if his love is enjoying himself? Or both?

Again I find myself lost in those eyes... God how could I _ever_ wonder why I'm in love with you?

 

 

_I slide in another finger, and begin to move them. You seem mesmerized, hypnotized by me... I smile in delight. "At my mercy... as you should be...And you're *such* an obedient Tiger, I don't technically need restraints for you... but I love how you look in them..." I move my free hand to the leather cuffs above your head, and scratch down your arms.  "I love to see you writhing in restraints..." I purr, scratching down your chest. "Oh... Sebastian... how I love to make you *thrash*..." I move my fingers inside you insistently, and bring my head down to take your cock in my mouth._

 

 

I love feeling your restraints, my love... it’s like being held by you. And feeling powerless in your grip... is intoxicating...

Wow, I do love this. Wonder if I’ve always been submissive or if it’s your mesmerizing presence... well it’s not really relevant. I can’t imagine ever wanting to belong to anyone else than you. Who could follow those eyes, that _voice_...

Your nails scratch down my chest and I _do_ writhe, a little... and your fingers are inside me and-

oh god-

your mouth-

 

 

_Mmm... that beautiful cock... I'll have to be careful not to go for too long... just enough to get you good and frenzied before I... Mmmm..._

 

 

Your mouth. Your mouth. Oh my god don’t do that please - it’s too good... I won’t come I won’t come... Jim said not to... I wouldn’t do anything Jim says not to, would I?! Of course not...

But that _mouth_...

 

 

_Hmm... so excited, so soon? *Excellent*... I slowly, slowly pull my mouth off your cock - pausing at the head, and gently pulling at it with my lips, before taking it in my hand. "I hope you weren't too close to coming, Sebastian... we've barely even begun..." I suddenly pull out my fingers and move myself into position, pushing your bent legs against you with my chest. My cock prods against your entrance, and slowly slips in..._

 

 

Was that a question? No, a statement... Good I've got a good education, allegedly...

But then your cock slips inside me and I melt into oblivion of anything that isn't your cock or your eyes... I so want you inside me... fill me up Sir, make me yours...

 

 

_I'm pushing into you firmly, I've never had the patience you have... Obviously I don't want to cause any damage... but not hurting you has never been high on my list of priorities.  When I move in as deep as I can, I pause for a moment and look at you -_

_\- and find myself hit with the gaze of those endless blue eyes... it's like a physical blow and I'm holding my breath, trying to recover from it._

_What has come over me?? Is this what *love* is?  (*Oh god*... I haven't even referred to the Word by its name in my own head...)_

_I let out a breath, feeling helpless to look away from you. Come on, Moriarty - he's primed and ready for you... he *wants* to be taken by you... so give him what he needs..._

_I breathe in, and gaze at you intently. "Maybe it's unfair to do this without your memory back. But I don't care about fair, Tiger. Before your head injury, I *owned* you... and some things may have changed, but not that. I'm claiming my territory now..." I pull back, and plunge deeply inside you._

 

 

Oh fuccckkkkkkkk... you’re not holding back and I’m so glad you’re not, I want you to take me _hard_ , take your pleasure from me without worrying about my comfort...

And that’s exactly what you’re doing and yes it hurts, but it hurts _so good_...

 I’m aware that wasn’t a question but fuck it -

“No - it wouldn’t be fair _not_ to do it. I want you so much... And of course you own me... Head injury or not... it’s not a state of mind, it’s an immutable _fact_...”

 

 

_I'm staring at you in your restraints, with my cock deep in your arse... with your intoxicated eyes, telling me that owning you is a *fact*._

_*Oh, Sebastian*... Desire surges through me..._

_"I'm soooo glad we're in agreement," I say darkly, and plunge into you again and again._

Oh god that... is almost too much to bear, but... there is a secret to it, it seems... the body wants to resist, wants to avoid the pain, but every movement is a _choice_ , commanded by the brain, so just make the brain give out the command that we don't move if there's sensation, that we just... bear it, ride the pain... and that works... and the sensation is not simply pain, it's ecstatic as well, and the ecstasy is intertwined with the pain, it wouldn't be there without it... and those eyes...

I fall deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole you mentioned... and I have no idea where it will lead, but if you're with me, I'll go anywhere...

 

 

_My Sebastian... willing to go anywhere I want to take you ... is it any wonder I had to fight not to love you? I gaze at you, and my pace involuntarily slows._

 

No, Jim, don't slow down... I look at you and - your eyes have changed... They are still dark and deep and mesmerizing, but... you're looking at me almost tenderly... Oh Jim - my heart expands and my throat constricts with the sheer _love_ I feel for you. I stare back at you - can't move, can't caress you, but I'll let my eyes do the talking. I look at you and I don't know how I look, but I see the recognition on your face...

 

 

_"Bloody hell, Sebastian..." I murmur. I touch your face tentatively, and it feels like a charge moves through us. I shake my head in amazement._

_"Oh, you definitely need to pay..." I smile fiercely at you, and my pace increases again._

 

 

However you make me pay, it will be a price well worth seeing that look on your face as you touch my cheek, your eyes widening in surprise at your own response. I swallow and the tension becomes nearly unbearable, as you pick up the pace again, and my eyes screw shut at the intensity of the sensation... God... Jim...

 

 

_This isn't going to last long, not like I'd planned... teasing you with a delayed orgasm will just have to wait. I'm feeling desire like I've never felt before...  It's longing and aching and trembling all rolled into one quivering package... (Is *that* love??) and all I want to do is fuck you until I come into your sweet arse..._

_"Mmmm... Tiger..." I hear myself moan as I thrust into you over and over and over._

 

 

You're picking up speed and I don't think I've ever been this horny in my life but then I don't have much comparison but I am _so incredibly_ in love, and you tying me down - up? - and whipping me was _so incredibly_ hot, and you look _so incredibly_ sexy and your cock pounding into me feels _so incredibly_ good and I can't do anything but moan in rapture as you move inside me again and again...

 

 

_I'm panting as I'm rocking against you hard. The look on your face is indescribable... all the times we've fucked, and I'm only noticing it now? You're gazing at me in open adoration, desire, worship... like I'm the hottest, most beautiful, amazing thing on the planet... (Good on you for recognizing it, Tiger...)_

_I lean in to kiss you, and I'm lost in your lips. No, this isn't going according to plan, at all..._

 

 

You come closer and you’re even more beautiful the closer you get, your eyes get deeper and I’m lost, I’m so lost inside them...

And then you kiss me. And I don’t think we’ve kissed like this before... you are so sweet, almost reverential, losing yourself in the kiss like I am... my Jim, my dark angel, my love...

 

 

_I pull back, and my eyes lock on yours. I think if this continues, one or both of us will combust from the intensity... I grab your hips, and pull them up as I thrust into you - again - again- again -_

 

 

I moan as you thrust inside me again and again... it feels so incredibly good... “Jim...” oh no... “Sir... you feel so good... god I love you fucking me... it’s the most amazing feeling in the world... God, I love you... Sir...”

 

 

_"Sebastian... I had no idea... it could be like this-" the words are being dragged from me by some formidable force, and I don't understand what it is... I wish it would stop, I wish I could say *more*..._

_"You feel sooo good, my beautiful... amazing... Sebastian..." I whisper._

 

 

 “You too... you are incredible... my love... god... I love being whipped by you, I love being fucked by you, I love being with you... I love being yours... I love you...”

 

 

_"Oh *fuck*... I love you, Tiger..." the words are torn from me, I'm gasping, I'm coming so hard, I love you. *I love you*... I'm pouring myself into you, convulsing against you... sweet Sebastian..._

 

 

Oh my god. You’re coming inside me. I made you come. And it feels so incredibly good... and you’re saying you love me, love me, love *me*... the world is mine... because you are the world, you rule it, and I’m yours... and in a different, but no less way... you are mine.

 

 

_I collapse against you, breathing hard. "Oh- Sebastian, you're so... fucking delicious." I pull out, and look down at you. "You'll pay another day, my darling..." I smirk, dive onto your cock, and suck you hard._

 

 

You fall on top of me and _that_ is when I struggle with the restraints, because I so want to hold you now...

But you don’t miss a beat and are out, making me wince, and then you’re on my cock... oh fuck Jim... oh god oh please...

 

 

_I lift my head and smile at you. "Oh... you can come now, Tiger..." I return to sucking you, while digging my nails into your sweet arse._

 

 

Oh thank god... I was afraid you were going to keep me hanging for a bit... but you feel so good and your mouth is amazing and you are amazing and everything you’ve done to me... god... Jim...

“I’m... oh god yes... I’m coming Sir... oh god oh fuck this is...”

I make more sounds but I can’t understand them myself. I groan and moan...

 

 

_I smile around your cock, and suck harder and faster... I *love* the sounds you make, Tiger... and the magnificent sight of you thrashing against your restraints as you come, shuddering against me violently. I swallow._

_"Tiger..." I whisper, caressing your thigh as you lie trembling and panting. "I'm so pleased with you,  darling..."_

_I move up to your head, grinning down at you. "I do love to see you restrained... but I suppose I can let you go... in a moment."_

 

 

I can’t care if you do or not, I’m unsure of what planet we’re on... I lie panting catching my breath, mumbling things like ‘bloody hell’ and ‘god’.

But when I have gathered my scattered wits back, I do want out...

“Release would be most welcome, Sir... it would allow me to cuddle you like you’ve never been cuddled before...”

 

 

_I stretch out over your chest, grasp your wrists in my hands. I sigh. "Welll... I *suppose* I'll allow it... you look like you're going to chew your way out if I don't." I unbuckle the restraints, pull your arms down, and start rubbing your wrists, and kissing them. Good god, Moriarty... what has come over you?_

You are so incredibly sweet and you look comically shocked at your own actions. You are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen and I can’t stop myself from grabbing you, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That. Was. The Best. Sex. Ever. You’re amazing...”

 

 

_"I am. And you, my darling, have had sex only three times, to your recollection..." I stop to think. "But I can't say you're wrong..." I duck my head, and curl up against you. "So apparently... it is possible to have *feelings* and inflict pain and domination at the same time... who knew?" I lay my head against your shoulder, feeling my heart slam in my chest._

 

 

Your heart is racing way more than it should... what is wrong, my love? It must be how new all this is to you... Oh god my dear, is it frightening you? Oh Jim... oh my sweet sweet Jim... I hold you close, kissing your hair, whispering, “You are amazing... so amazing that I remember right through a complete memory loss... nothing could lessen my devotion to you - wipe my mind clean, let me forget my own _name_ , but I remember that I’m yours... my Jim, my beautiful, wondrous Jim...”

 

 

 

_(What the fuck now, Jim?? Shut up, Moriarty...)_

_My heart continues to pound... my chest tightens..._

_Is this what Love is?? Am I supposed to feel like *this*?? Maybe psychopaths aren't meant to feel it... maybe it's too volatile to contain??_

_My stomach roils..._

_My thoughts are starting to fragment... oh, fuck... oh, *fuck*…_

( _There's a way out of this you know_ …)

_I hear a purring voice, and feel sweet cool relief flow through me. What... what?! Tell me and I'll do it!!_

_(Tell him... you were buying yourself time, so he wouldn't leave while New York is still up in the air... tell him... you're not capable of feeling... tell him... he might as well get used to the idea, because he's got nowhere else to go. But if he thinks he'll fare better on his own, a driver will take him to his shitty apartment... until he's ready to come crawling back... and if he's lucky, you'll allow it. He's primed and ready, Jim... he won't leave, because he's terrified._

_You didn't have to go through all this... you should have listened to me... haven't I always taken care of you?)_

_I never get to feel warm..._

_(Awwww... warm like a nice, furry tiger? with such pretty claws and teeth? How will that feel when he hurts you... rips open your belly with those sharp, pretty claws? Sooner or later... they all turn on you and hurt you...)_

_*You*_ _hurt me..._

_(Only to keep you safe, my dear... a tiger won't be so kind. Go on... tell him... don't you want to feel safe, Jim?)_

_I pull back and look at you, terrified._


	7. No Cuddling in Front of Clients or Enemies

Oh my god - did I say something wrong?! You look absolutely horrified. Shit - now what?

Keep stroking, keep making soothing noises - he looks like a frightened kitten, don’t make any sudden moves –

“What’s wrong? Your heart is pounding like a steam hammer... is it frightening to you to be this close to me? Is it overwhelming to feel things? I can understand - it’s overwhelming for me, too. I hardly know you, and am finding myself utterly smitten by and devoted to you. It’s fucking terrifying, but... if you try to relax, and just feel it... not panic at the feeling, just carefully see what it’s like... you’ll see it’s really lovely.”

I keep gently stroking, trying to coax the scared little kitten to enjoy the petting.

 

 

_I'm opening my mouth to speak Moriarty's words, and you're speaking soothingly... stroking soothingly... I'm only catching every other word you say over the white noise in my head... I hear my anxious breathing, my heart pounding, and I slip away, far far away..._

_Outline possible actions to take:_

_A - listen to Moriarty, speak the words..._

_Outcome: witness Sebastian's sad face again... no, *worse*... Cruel words create tormented faces..._

_(*You can do this, Jim... Just let yourself be cold again, where it's safe...* purrs the voice)_

_B - tell Sebastian you're going out, come back when it's safer..._

_Outcome: Sebastian's confusion, protests... Having to leave the warm space... Being cold..._

_C - Total fucking meltdown - panic attack, ranting and raving, the works..._

_Outcome: … *I'm so tired... do I have to*??_

_D - Let yourself be soothed by the Tiger??_

_*WRONG - NOT an option*_

_Outcome: Stroking... Soft words... staying warm..._

_*But won’t this just delay more confusion, dissonance, terror*??_

_Select Option:..._

_*All options are terrible!!*_

_Modify Option D: Let yourself be soothed for now. Reassess options later._

_*Yes. That one*..._

_(*Wrong choice, darling... You'll see soon enough*...)_

_I blink, and find myself looking into beautiful tiny blue oceans... so peaceful and gentle... your eyes are so gentle... so concerned, trying to mask your own fear... you can't hide anything from me, Tiger..._

_I press against you, my face buried in your neck. My breathing is still ragged. I start to shiver, and an icy chill sweeps through me. I haven't felt warm in so long... so long... Tears squeeze from my eyes._

_"Cold... so cold, Sebastian..." I hear a sad, tiny voice, and my eyes widen as I recognize the source._

 

 

You’re shivering - oh my god, you are really going through the wringer, aren’t you? And it’s all because of me - I forced you to confront and confess your feelings before you were ready. Though - not sure if you’d ever have been ready...

Regardless, I need to take care of you now - my little kitten, shivering with the cold from emotional shock...

I embrace you, hold you close, remember a trick - must be from my army days? I turn you around and breathe between your shoulder blades, my arms wrapped around you. Your shivering intensifies, then abates a bit.

“Shall we draw a bath,” (Kitten - no) “Jim? A nice hot bath, I’ll wash you... that will warm you up.”

I’m thinking of making you tea as well but a little voice in my head warns me not to leave you alone.

 

 

_I pull back to look at you in confusion. The words slowly stream through my mind until I make sense of them._

_*Bath*... warm?_

_I sigh, not wanting to move, but craving heat, craving... more soothing touch?_

_"Not by myself..." I say slowly. "With you." I press my face back into your neck, breathing more slowly._

_"_ _With you, Sebastian..."_

 

 

“Of course... I’ll come with you...”

My heart hurts at seeing you so lost and confused, and the urge to protect you is immense - but I’m not sure what to protect you from.

We walk to the bathroom, where I start the taps - as hot as is bearable; you’re still shivering. I hold you close as the water fills the tub - it’s big, but the water flows quickly, and soon it’s filled enough for us to sit in. I help you in, sit with my back to the rim, and hold you in my arms as the water level rises around us, breathing in your neck, rubbing your arms - anything to stop you shivering.

My poor, poor kitten...

 

 

_My breathing is shallow, my chest rising and falling... the unbearable cold is still there inside me, but I also feel warmth - behind me and all around me. You- holding me, stroking me..._

_"Oh..." I say weakly, looking behind me. "You're the injured one... Should I have run you a bath??"_

_I can recall having seen that in a film, or read it in a book...??_

 

 

I’m the injured one?! No, you... oh, yes, my head. Never mind that, it’s fine...

“I’m fine... I feel fine. Fine enough to manage turning a tap, arduous though it was.”

The water is rising nicely, covering us to the middle, and it’s really hot - almost too hot for me but you’re still shaking, so I fold my arms around your arms and chest.

“Are you warming up a little, Kitten?”

 

 

_"Yes... not a kitten..." I sigh and close my eyes, resting against you._

 

 

Sure, Kitten... I smile. I didn’t think you’d accept that name so easily, it just slipped out...

The water is nearing the top now and I turn off the tap, sudden silence filling the room. I hold you against my chest, still slowly stroking you in the water. You seem to finally stop shivering, which is good, as we’re nearly being boiled. I feel sweat drops trickling down my forehead, as I turn and kiss your cheek.

 

 

_"I want... to go to bed after. Will you - come with me?"_

_I hear myself speak and I sound like an anxious teenager. Somewhere I can sense Moriarty shaking his head at me, disdainfully and with disgust. But there's only room in this bathtub for two, and *we're* already in it. Piss off. He raises an eyebrow, gives a sweeping bow and disappears. I think someone will be made to pay, eventually... you, me, or most likely both of us. But not today, I think. Not today..._

 

 

“I cannot think of anything I’d rather do,” I answer truthfully. I’m amazed at the amount of different faces you have - and they _are_ different faces, not masks. This is you, so much you, and probably a side of you not shown that often before. But the dominant sadist - also so you. And the practical businessman - the concerned mother hen - the force of nature threatening the paramedics... I love all of them, but this little lost child really tugs at my heart. I want to wrap my arms around you and never let go, growl at the world to keep it at bay, keep you safe and warm and loved forever...

 

 

_My eyes fly open. "This isn't part of it, you know. What we do... I was supposed to show you... But this doesn't happen. Sometimes you cry. But not me- I can't explain it..." My brow furrows._

_"Virus in the system. Is that what love is, Sebastian?" I ask in a plaintive voice. I want to pull away, but I need you - your strength is all that's making me feel safe. It's you... or Moriarty. I take your hand, and observe your fingers, your scarred knuckles._

_These hands can protect me... will protect me... and keep me safe._

 

 

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask what love is... I only know one person, and I love him madly, but I believe it works differently for most people... To me, love is all I know. I don’t know anything about before I woke up, and all I’ve seen since then has been love.”

I hold you close with one arm, let you play with my other hand.

“I know it’s hard for you, my love, suddenly being confronted with a headstrong stranger in your bodyguard’s body, but... I think it’s good for you too... it’s not healthy being so wound up all the time, you should be able to relax... in the arms of someone you trust... and you are so incredibly lovely... you need to be loved.”

 

 

_My eyes start to narrow at what you're saying - but you've made me feel so good, I decide to shake it off._

_"You were never reticent to share an opinion about the Empire, Sebastian..." I say wryly. "And now your opinions appear to include what's good for me... Hm. I *suppose* you're entitled to it- but one might say, awfully bossy for a bodyguard..." I dip my hand in the bath, and flick water over my shoulder at you._

_"Don't you know bossiness is my domain?"_

 

 

You’re getting playful - excellent. Seems my kitten is reviving.

“I wouldn’t dare challenge you in a bossiness contest, Sir...” I smile, “but I believe that the job of a bodyguard is to keep one’s boss healthy... By ensuring he doesn’t get shot, kidnapped, sexually frustrated... or too wound up for his own good.”

I flick water into your face at this.

 

 

_My eyes squeeze shut as water drips down my face. Uh huh..._

_"Darling... I know you’ve forgotten, but let me give you a friendly warning…*Most* contests you shouldn't challenge me to…"_

_I scoop up two handfuls of water, and fling them at your face._

 

 

“I don’t know... I think in Old Greek homo-erotic bath wrestling I might be a worthy challenger... “

I rush my hands through the water, setting up a continuous splashing at your face.

 

 

_I sputter and grab at your hands, but the splashing continues. "Tiger!" I yelp, laughing despite myself- and then reach behind me to grab your balls, and slowly squeeze. "Don't be so sure..."_

 

 

WHOA! Kitten plays mean.

“I see your point... I fear I’ll have to admit defeat... you are the better water wrestler of the two of us.” I throw up my hands in surrender.

 

 

_"I accept your defeat..." I say grandly, and fling another handful of water at your face. Then I let go of your balls, and turn enough to kiss you soundly. I find myself staring into the blueness of your eyes. "Homo-erotic water wrestling, hmm?... Do I get some kind of trophy for winning?"_

 

 

You little bastard. Reminder to self not to challenge you - you don’t play fair.

But you kiss very well… and that _look_...

“But of course! You win a £400 cuddle. This is a very special cuddle that takes skill and precision to execute. Pray turn around...”  
You turn so you’re facing me, and I move forward, moving my legs underneath yours so you end up on my lap facing me. I wrap my arms around you and you wrap your legs around my back and suddenly we are very close... I look into your big black eyes and lift my head up to kiss you.

 

 

_Ohhh... very nice... I forget to feel self-conscious, vulnerable, afraid, or any of the feelings that had been running rampant through me for the last while._

_There's no room to feel any of these feelings, not when you're staring into my eyes like that, not when those blue oceans are so mesmerizing... not when you're kissing me like that... running your hands over my back, my shoulders, my face... My tongue slips into your mouth, and I find myself kissing you deeply. I register a small burst of delight when I hear you moan._

 

 

God, Jim... just being near you is intoxicating. You kissing me, so intensely, so full of concentration, is... making me dissolve into the warm water, no longer feeling my own body, just you, your arse on my thighs, your back under my hands, your lips on mine, your tongue in my mouth, your hand on my back, the other in my hair...

It’s probably not healthy to be so entirely obsessed by one person... but I wouldn’t not want to be... there is nothing else in my world, which could be a scary thing, probably should be a scary thing, but it feels just so completely right.

 

 

_"Mmm, Tigger..." I breathe. "We finished not so long ago, and yet... I find myself quite overcome..." I'm moving against you slowly. "Must be all that homo-erotic exertion... or defeating you in battle..." I grin at you fiercely, and my fingers tighten in your hair._

 

 

I shiver as I feel your fingers gripping my hair, grasp you closer, moving my mouth to your neck, gently sucking the water droplets off your skin, kissing, sucking...

 

 

_I breathe in as I feel your lips suck at my neck... I stop myself from pulling hard on your hair (careful of the head, Jim...) and instead slowly, slowly move your head back so I can kiss the soft flesh under your jaw, move my tongue against it, and playfully bite..._

 

 

Uhmmmm... my head is being pulled back and I expose my throat to the wild beast... and he bites, and I moan... I move my hands over your back to your arse, grasp it, pull you tight to me, feeling you against me...

 

 

_Oh... this is progressing rather quickly, considering we were in the throes of passion not so long ago... My hard cock is rubbing against yours. Our breathing is hard and fast. I'm kissing you hard, and swallowing your moan._

_*Fuck*... what is it about you, Tiger?? My hand moves down to your cock._

 

 

I’m already trembling with anticipation... hey, as far as I know I’ve never had sex before and I’m taking to it like a duck to water... and you seem quite passionate yourself... I wonder if we were all over each other all the time or if this is something new because of the new situation...

And then you touch my cock and I groan into your mouth - my fingers dig into your bottom and I move one hand to your cock...

 

 

_Now your hand is on me, and I'm moaning and grinding against you. "I don't know if we should just wank, or if I'm going to fuck that arse again, Tiger..." I breathe against your cheek, and lick your neck hard. "Both options sound *delicious*..."_

 

 

They do indeed... they do... I moan at your words and grasp your cock tighter as I whisper, “Anything you want, my love... I’m yours... my hands, my mouth, my arse... all yours... my beautiful, beautiful Jim...” I’m not sure what I want – no, I am. I want you to fuck me - it’s so incredibly good...

 

 

_I observe you as you whisper to me, and note your flushed skin, your dilated pupils... Ohh... you want to be *taken*, don't you, Tiger? And I do love to take you... I hold your face in my hands and I kiss you. "Then get that beautiful arse of yours into bed... I haven't had nearly enough of it..." I stand up and look down at you. "But first... dry me off thoroughly. I'm already getting cold, and I’m sick to death of feeling this way… "_

_I climb out of the tub, and you follow. You pull down a couple of fluffy white towels from the shelf, and before you dry yourself, I'm gently being wrapped in one. I'm towelled off and given the sweetest kiss, which doesn't take long to grow heated. And I was worried about being cold? My skin grows hot against yours, as I kiss you long and hard._

 

 

How can you still be cold?! You must really be in shock... Well a good fuck should warm you up...

In fact the kiss seems to do the trick, as your face is distinctly flushed as we break off and stand staring at each other, breathing fast.

I’m tempted to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to the bedroom, but I fear you’d object - either because of my alleged invalid status or because of the affront to your dignity. Instead I hold your hand as we walk back into the bedroom we left half an hour ago, ready to repeat our exertions - god, I love being your... whatever I am. Yours.

I turn, look at you with what I can only assume are extremely hungry eyes, waiting for your command - damn you do have me well trained, don’t you?

 

 

_I crawl onto the bed, and sit on my knees - I stretch out my hand to you, and you take it immediately. I pull you down with me, and we face each other on the bed._

_"Sit against the headboard, Tiger." You do, and I straddle you. I take your face in my hands, gaze into your eyes and kiss you hungrily._

 

 

I grab you closer, feel your cock rub against mine, your hungry kiss...

I don’t think you’re cold any more...

I stroke your back, your arse, your shoulders... Your skin is so smooth, so white, so soft, over your taut muscles...

I open my eyes, see you looking at me, your eyes huge and black - I find myself lost inside them...

 

 

_"Mmm, Tiger..." I move my hands down your muscular chest and abdomen, licking my lips. "You really are beautiful..." My hands reach your cock, and I look into your eyes as I stroke you slowly._

_"Just - magnificent - " I breathe._

 

 

I breathe in a gasp as you touch my cock, close my eyes, arch back my head...

A tremor travels up my spine as you move your hand, so slowly... God, Jim...

I reach for your cock and stroke it, as I hear myself groaning, “I want you... I want you so much...”

 

 

_I kiss your exposed throat and your neck, before clamping down with my teeth where your neck meets your shoulder. I pull on the muscle, sucking hard. One hand keeps your head firmly in place, the other continues to stroke your cock slowly..._

 

 

I moan at the bite - torn between pain and pleasure, again, letting them merge into that heady cocktail you are so good at delivering...

I keep my hand moving on your cock, feeling it nice and firm in my hand.

 

 

_I let go of the muscle, noting with pleasure the bruising, the marks left by my teeth. My fingers press down on the reddened skin, my nails lightly scrape... and I kiss you like I'm going to devour you, my tongue claiming your mouth possessively._

 

 

God how do you do that... you’re hurting me and it makes me rush headlong into ecstasy... my cock twitches, I moan, and then your mouth is on mine, aggressively demanding entry, which I happily give... You’re still stroking me, maddeningly softly, despite my movements into your hand.

I capture your tongue and suck on it, then pull away suddenly to stare into your eyes.

 

 

_"You wanted me... you wanted all of me?" I growl. "I'm jealous... I'm possessive... I'm temperamental and irrational... and I'm *fucking* demanding... and I will demand *everything* of you, darling... every bit of you..." I breathe. "You've got me, Tiger... if that's you want..." I press my forehead to yours, and grasp your face with my fingers._

 

 

“I want all of you Jim... I think I’m jealous and possessive as well, so that’s alright - at least, I assume that you don’t do this with _all_ your employees...

As to temperamental and irrational - I’m less thrilled about that, but - I reckon I’ll be able to handle it. I hope.

And demanding everything of me... You already got every bit of me, and I’ll do my very best to do whatever you want... because I’m yours, Jim... “

 

 

_"I do *not* do this with employees as a rule! I broke that rule *hard* for you because I became obsessed... and I couldn't resist you anymore..." I lean in and lick your lips. "And yes, you *are* a jealous and possessive Tiger..." I smile slyly, and continue to stroke you. "I always secretly enjoyed that... and you may think you know what possessive means... but honey... *you ain't seen nothing yet*..." I drawl, and look down at your cock. "Speaking of possessing every bit of you... turn over, soldier..."_

 

 

You said I’ve got you, if that’s what I want... I’ve got you... You are mine, you just admitted it... I can’t stop repeating the words over and over in my head... ‘You’ve got me, Tiger...’

And you broke your rules because you became obsessed by me... oh my Jim... my heart swells... _mine_...

I look at you, my dark lord...

 _Mine_...

You order me to turn over and I do so, managing to hide my beaming smile until I have my back to you.

 

 

_The look in your eyes... exultation... intoxication... adoration... It's all I can do to keep my Dominant Jim expression in place... as soon as you turn over, I cast my eyes heavenward._

_*Fuck*, I mouth. I've fallen in love with my bodyguard... *I* have fallen in love... *Love*! I look down at you, and move my hands along your muscular back and shoulders, still covered in my marks. This is mine? Somehow... it feels different than before. My hands continue to move down to your reddened arse, and grasp your cheeks. You let out a whine, and I smile._

_I reach over to the bedside table, take the lube that's still sitting on it. I squeeze some on my fingers, and spread myself over your back. I feel for your opening, and slide in a finger._

_"I love fucking you, Tiger..." I breathe, as I work you in. "You're so hot... so tight... I fucking love your arse, Sebastian..." I push in a second finger._

 

 

“I’m glad you love fucking me, because I fucking _love_ being fucked by you... “

I know I have no comparison, but I don’t need it - first of all, if I stayed with you while you were being a prick, which it seems you may have been, you must have been more than just a pretty face. Second... sex with you is so incredibly good, I don’t think I could have better and survive. I’m barely coherent afterwards as it is. Third - I’m never going to want to find out, am I? The mere thought of having sex with anyone who is not you is unthinkable. Fourth - you would kill me if I tried.

So, yeah, whether my memory comes back or not - this is it. This is the sex I will have. And I can’t believe my luck.

 

 

_"Yeah, you fucking love it?" I ask in a low voice. "After I've only fucked you twice, to your recollection? I must have made *quite* an impression..." my fingers are making a beckoning gesture inside you, stretching you out._

_"Time for something new for you... This is what it's like when I fuck you from behind, Tiger." I withdraw my fingers with a flicking motion, making you moan. I rub my cock with lube, and then grind it against your arsehole. "You won't be able to see my face, but you can picture it… can't you, darling?" I growl, and push into you._

 

 

 “I loved it after you’d fucked me only once... you’re... _unnnnhn_... god - you feel incredible..." I can’t say more because my breath is cut off by the intensity of you entering me. This feels different but really good - I’m leaning on my elbows, my legs spread, my hands grasping at the sheets, a groan coming out of my throat - you fill me up physically like you fill up my mind - oh no, Jim, I have no trouble at all picturing your face... or indeed your entire body, naked, lithe, kneeling behind me, your hands grabbing my hips, me submissively bent over, being taken by you... god, what an amazing picture...

 

 

_I'm buried in you... submerged in you... immersed in you... this is going beyond the physical, although it's fucking delicious to feel myself pushing inside you to the hilt, slowly moving out, and burying myself in you again..._

_I feel like you're everywhere - inside me, all around me... is *this* love? It's maddening, unsettling, and... so, *so* addictive, especially for an obsessive psychopath like myself. Where before I was hell-bent on keeping you out, and keeping myself from feeling anything for you... now I seem to be under some kind of goddamn spell..._

_It's chemicals, I tell myself weakly, but even I don't believe it. No... I'm fucking bewitched, I think as I thrust into you slowly and rhythmically with half-closed eyes... It's in the way I'm grasping your hips, the way I'm looking the muscles in your back rippling as you push back against me, the way I'm drinking in the sounds you're making, those beautiful gasps and guttural groans... the way I'm panting and moaning at the *feel* of you... the sight... the sounds..._

_"Oh, fuck... Tiger..." I gasp, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, moving deeper into you, pressing against your back. "You feel so - fucking - good - "_

 

 

You’re not holding back, you move inside me purposefully, and it feels so incredible - I breathe through the stretch, relax into it, surrender into the sensation which grows more and more powerful... Jim... my Jim... my fallen angel, my dark lord, my love... mine...

Your fingers dig into my hips like you’re afraid I’ll try to escape, you’re panting, saying I feel good...

“Jim... god, Jim you feel great... I love you fucking me... you’re fucking divine... Jim... my Jim... my love...” It feels even better than before, or it might be because I’m floating on cloud nine... I am falling deeper in love the longer I spend with you, the more facets I see of the dark diamond that is your soul...

 

 

_I slowly reach around your hip, and sigh as I feel my hand slide around my other favourite part of you... I move my hand firmly up and down to the rhythm of thrusting deeply into you._

_"Sebastian..." I whisper, eyes closed. "*God*, Sebastian..."_

_Fuck_ , that feels good... feeling you deep inside me and around me...

And then you whisper my name and something shifts inside me... I see a scene, a glimpse of a memory...

 

I’m naked, my shoulders, chest, arms, a mass of hurt, and you are sitting on a chair, blood on your shirt - my blood, and you speak my name and it makes something inside me twist and I know, without a doubt, that I will serve you forever...

 

Really? Is that how you got me? By making me bleed? Yet - the memory is not one of pressure - it’s devotion, admiration, desire, awe - yes, maybe the start of being in love.

 

With a shock, I’m back here and now, with you inside me and holding me, and I feel all those same emotions, but it feels infinitely better - because then, I saw you as a force of nature, as something unattainable to be worshipped - I still worship you, but somehow, I have managed to attain you - like swearing fealty to a king, and having the king decide to return the favour. I have a strong suspicion that if I still had my memory my mind would have been blown by those words from you...

 

 

_I move my hand down your back and up again, revelling in the feeling of your skin... my fingers caress your hair before grasping it firmly. I'm pulling your head back, carefully... but there's no question it's an act of possession. I shift my hips to hit the sweet spot, and smile when I hear you groan loudly._

_"*Yess*, Sebastian... come for me, darling..." I say, my voice dark and velvety, as I thrust into you hard and continue to stroke you. "Come with me..."_

 

 

Your wish is my command... or rather, your command is my wish. Your cock is performing magic, as is your hand, and your voice and words just send me over the edge.

“Yes... Jim... god, yes... oh god _Jim_...” I groan as I feel myself explode into your hand - I think I cry out your name, or at least moan it loudly... oh god this is fucking fantastic...

 

 

  _So beautiful... I'm watching enraptured as you come hard, but then your shivering and convulsing feels so fucking sweet, and my eyes are closing, you're clenching against my cock, and fuck that's hot, and I'm swept away, and my hand is twisting tightly in your hair, as I come, and come, and come into you, jerking violently against your body and pouring into you and it feels like an eternity, and you're *mine mine mine*, I've made you *mine* again and again, and somehow, this time you've made me yours, too? (What? How?)_

_I collapse against you, resting against your back and gasping for air. I feel you panting underneath me, supporting my weight. I pull out slowly, and wrap my arms around you. Then I'm pushing you down, and we fall in a heap - you laughing, and me with a secret smile. You turn and wrap me in your arms. I'm staring up at you, a bit apprehensively - but then I let the fear move through me with a sigh. I touch your face, and rest my head against your chest._

_"I love you, Tiger..." I murmur, still feeling perplexed by the whole thing - but there's no going back now... and here in the strong circle of your arms, I'm realizing just how much I wouldn't want to..._

 

 

My Kitten. My Jim. My love.

I know with a certainty that has nothing to do with memory or experience that I will go to the ends of the earth and back for you, that I will kill and die for you, that I will do anything in my power to keep you safe and make you happy.

“I love you... so much... my beautiful dark angel...” I whisper against your hair as I cradle you in my arms like you’re the most precious, most fragile thing in the world, and in a way you are...

“I had a flash of memory just now... of you... you were sitting in a chair, you’d been... I was hurting, you had blood on you... and you spoke my name and I knew I was yours forever...”

 

 

_A wave of emotion sweeps through me. What the *fuck*... I'm struggling to keep my composure, trying to keep from panicking at the intensity. I breathe in deeply, and remain curled against your chest._

_"I think- that was from our first time..." I say quietly. "I *did* hurt you... I made you bleed, made you cry... that was when I made you mine. It was beautiful. You... remember?" My hands tighten around your arms._

 

 

You seem both delighted and tense at the memory - why is that?

“It was just that flash - when you said my name just now, I got this memory, but it was just an instant - just the image, and the feelings - physical hurt, but mental rapture. But - less than now. I adored you, but... you were... like a storm - beautiful, intense, sweeping me away, but... there was such tension in both of us. A... distrust? You wouldn’t let me see the true you, and I didn’t believe I could ever get anywhere near your heart.

It was very intense - I guess it makes sense that intense memories come back soonest. It’s - encouraging, I guess?”

 

 

_"I would think so..." I lift my head up to kiss you. "I'm sure more will come back to you soon..."_

_I break off as I struggle with wave after wave of emotion... why is this so hard?? You're looking at me with concern and I sigh. "Apparently... post-coitus is when I feel things the strongest. How unbearably...common. But here we are... I'm not the kind of person who has feelings, let alone *shares* them - but I'm fucking afraid of what will happen if I don't. And I don't want a repeat of what happened before. Or something worse. So... *Fuck*...” I breathe out slowly._

_"It was so beautiful and intense and amazing, but I was a total shit to you... that night, and every night after. I was an arrogant... cruel... vicious..." Tears start to flow._

_"And you were so-" I start to shake as I bury my face in your chest._

_"*Sweet*-" I manage to get out before I start to sob._

_Feelings are just- so - fucking - amazing - I think in a fury, trying not to scream. In the background, I hear Moriarty laughing wildly._

 

 

Oh my love - Jim –

My protectiveness is kicked into gear; my thoughts and feelings race - Jim is hurt - must save him - identify danger - no immediate risk - identify wound - psychological - identify treatment - warmth seemed to work well –

I wrap my arms tighter around you, hold you as you sob like your heart is breaking, and for all I know it may be.

“Jim... Jim, my love... it’s alright, my darling... if it helps... what I felt in the memory was not hurt... well, physical hurt, but I was... enraptured by you. I was completely in awe. I wouldn’t have been if you’d just been a vicious shit, would I? I don’t know exactly what happened - but whatever you did - I loved it enough to fall completely under your spell. Look - Jim - “ I try, when you keep sobbing, “I’m not an idiot, am I? Or a martyr - you must have given me what I needed, what I craved - otherwise why would I have stayed with you? Why would I have been so sweet? Why am I so madly in love with you?”

 

 

_"I don't know!! I don't know why you fell in love with me, why you were so sweet when I was such a bastard, I don't understand any of it!" I shout and continue sobbing. "You're not an idiot... but maybe you're a masochist emotionally as well as physically. It's the only way to explain falling in love with a psychopath. You probably should have just taken up with a nice, normal man and had fun on weekends doing whatever the fuck normal people do... gardening and making jam... but then... you're a violent criminal psychopath, and normal men probably have an issue with that. Maybe a *nice* criminal who you could picnic with..."_

_Now I'm laughing and crying at the same time, and trying not to get hysterical._

_"Could I have a tissue please?" I sniffle._

 

 

I hand you a tissue, my eyes wide, shaking my head.

“What the...

Look, Jim, I have no clue what an emotional masochist may be, but if I am one, then that’s obviously what I wanted. And - did it occur to you that you are more than just a psychopath?! You are incredibly smart, beautiful, funny, fascinating, inventive - and - an incredible lover. I adore you, and I obviously have for quite some time. Could you do me the favour of believing that I am an adult capable of making decisions about my life? Do you honestly think I am somehow badly mistaken, misled, not capable of recognizing this awful evil that has taken possession of me? That I’m some vulnerable naïve kid that you kept in your clutches to abuse? Fuck off. I’m here with you entirely by free choice. I don’t want some nice criminal. I want an unreasonable, sadistic, possessive, psychopathic criminal. Because he’s the greatest man I’ve ever met.”

 

 

_"Oh sure... play to my narcissism. I'm the greatest man *anyone* will ever meet. I still think you're as insane as I am..." I wipe my eyes and nose, and toss the crumpled tissue on the bedside table._

_"Yes, yes, you're exercising the glory of free will... very good. And no consenting adult is capable of making bad decisions for themselves. *Anyway*... it's not like I want to convince you not to be with me, I was just processing six months of repressed guilt- and probably a whole lot of other shite that's in there - so you'll excuse me if I come off as melodramatic. And this is all your fault, anyway! So *you* fuck off, Tiger..." I say, sulking._

_After a moment I twist my lips to keep from smiling. “Who said you were allowed to be so irresistible, anyway...?”_

 

 

“No one, Sir - can’t help it,” I grin. “It’s my nature.

Anyway, I can’t recall what you were like before, so I’ll have to go off what I’ve seen so far, which is a multifaceted, talented, incredibly sweet, hot guy who takes excellent care of me, who I’m mad about, and who has finally acknowledged he’s mad about me too. Don’t know about you, Boss, but as far as I’m concerned the world is lying at our feet just waiting for me to conquer it for you.”

And it’s true - I do feel like I’m able to do anything, after the way you look at me. Like I’m irresistible, and more... like you’re scared and looking to me to save you, which makes me feel omnipotent. There’s nothing I wouldn’t and couldn’t do to keep you safe.

I wrap my arms around you, kiss your face over and over, every little bit of it, grinning broadly.

 

_"Oh, god... *Tiger*," I protest, but a giggle escapes me. Jesus Christ... when's the last time I made a noise like that? I find myself leaning into you, and my arms snake around you._

_"Well, that's... definitely a unique perspective on Jim Moriarty. You realize no one under the sun sees me this way, me included? I'm glad you don't think I'm a complete bastard, but obviously you'll keep that funny little opinion to yourself. Can't have anyone else thinking I'm an adorable sweetie-pie, can I?" I rest my head against your shoulder, and run my hands lightly along your back._

 

 

You giggle, and it’s the most adorable sound I could imagine, and you hug me close, and this is so wonderful - how could we not have done this for so long? Madness.

“It’ll be our little secret, Boss... I won’t cuddle you when you’re negotiating with New York, I promise. Or hold your hand when we walk into the room. Or kiss you and say ‘Well done, Kitten’ when you finish.”

I stroke your shoulder and back, then your arms... you’re the most adorable kitten ever and I can’t believe how lucky I am, regardless of what you think of yourself.

 

 

_I snort. "Good plan, Tiger. No cuddling and kissing in front of clients or enemies." I cover my face with my hand. "Oh god, New York... I wish I'd postponed for a week. I'm still not sure you'll be up to it tomorrow, but we'd better keep your strength up. Are you hungry?"_

 

 

 “I feel absolutely fine, to be honest. Except that I still can’t bloody remember anything. I do assume I remember how to shoot people - I assembled that gun pretty quickly. I don’t suppose you have a shooting range in the basement for me to practice?”

 

 

_"Not that I remember seeing," I say wryly. "But it's not a bad idea - to practice shooting I mean. We could go tomorrow morning. I don't particularly want to drive out to a shooting range now after whipping you, fucking you twice, going into shock, having a hot bath, and... *not* crying like a delicate flower. But I could have some dinner, and so will you - no arguments. If there's nothing in the refrigerator, I'll just place an express order with the caterer, it won't take too long..." I sigh._

_"Of course that means *someone* would have to get dressed to answer the door. And it won't be me..."_

 

 

 

Oh yes, I must be on the mend - you’re letting me walk all the way to the front door. _And_ get dressed. “No, you getting dressed would be a crime against aesthetics. I... guess we should order, then try to see if we’re able to have a shower without jumping each other while we wait for food? Do you know what I like? I _am_ quite hungry...”

 

 

_"Sebastian, you’ve ignored all my instructions and we've had a quite a lot of *exertion* since the paramedics were here. You already want more??" I kiss your lips and linger to look into your eyes. "Incorrigible..."_

_I pull away from you ruefully; I'd like to stay in bed longer, but *somehow* we skipped lunch, and I'm anxious about you going any longer without food. I pick up my phone, and start scrolling through my contacts._

_"You like to eat anything that's in front of you, you're not exactly discerning when it comes to food... but you do love Thai and Indian cuisine, and I've never seen anyone enjoy red meat quite as much as you... the bloodier the better. Would you like a nice rare steak, my Tiger?"_

 

 

 “I certainly like to eat anything in front of me...” I grin looking down at your naked form, making you roll your eyes.

“A rare steak sounds absolutely great...” I notice my stomach is rumbling at the thought.

You place the order, and we head to the shower yet again. I hold you close under the warm water, we kiss softly, sweetly, as the water washes away the unknown past.

 

 

 _I'm swept away by the feeling of your arms around me as the water pours down over us... your lips on mine... your tongue against mine... and oh god, what's happening to me *now*? I observe in fascination and horror as happy songs stream through my head (beginning with Queen’s A Kind of Magic)…_ _I feel my heart *softening*…_

_Is this the feeling of falling *deeper* in love??_

_Goddammit, Sebastian..._

 


	8. Am I Getting To You, My Dark Lord?

As we’re kissing, you seem to go almost limp in my arms - you’re kissing me still, but with such surrender, such concentration –

And I hold you close in my arms, stroking you gently and slowly, enjoying the feeling of our bodies touching where they can, the water streaming over and between us. I kiss your forehead, your eyes, the tip of your nose, your cheeks... and you look at me with such - confusion in your eyes, it breaks my heart.

“Me too, Jim... I don’t know what is happening either... Neither of us has a frame of reference... We’ll just have to try to get through it together... because it’s fucking beautiful...”

 

 

_"Beautiful..." I echo. "It is that... but Sebastian, you need to know something. There's a part of me that normally controls everything, including you. Of course, you don't remember... you had the tiniest taste of it when I first came home, before I realized you had amnesia. He's... very cruel, and doesn't let me feel. He's been with me since childhood, and he's been my protector. But he's very cross about what's happened with you, and I still feel him in the background ... I think he's plotting. And... I'm afraid of what he might do..." I say uneasily._

_I feel Moriarty's eyes on me gleaming in the darkness, and I shudder. "What if - he takes me over again? What if I can't stop him, and he's cruel to you??" I press my face into your chest. "I'm not sure - if I'll be able to hold him off if he's determined to have me... what then??"_

 

 

What the fuck? Is this - some type of dual personality? I’m... hardly the person to turn to for advice, Jim... I have no clue about this...

But you’re looking at me with your big brown eyes and I can’t disappoint you - I’ll have to think of something –

“I have no idea, my love...”

Oh great. That’s useful. Well done, Tiger.

“I’m not a defenceless child, though. If you start being a dick - I’ll tell you. And if you’re being too cruel - I’ll stop you. I... don’t know how to call you back if he’s... taking you over...” This is all sounding really weird... “but I can hold my own until you come back.”

Does that help? It doesn’t sound very helpful. I’m sorry, Kitten... I have no idea how you work...

 

 

_I scoff. "You have no idea what you're up against... you barely even met him!" I see you looking at me strangely._

_"Oh, so you're weirded out now, Sebastian? Shocking that a psychopath would have severe psychological issues, I know... No, I don't have multiple personalities, if that's what you're thinking - as far as I knew until yesterday, that *was* the real me. It's who I've been for more than twenty years... who knew I could feel something for another human, and express emotions and be...*vulnerable*? It's fucking disorienting…_

_And I don't believe for a moment that such a significant part of me has gone away completely. So I'm just warning you, in case I start acting like a vicious cunt." I rub my eyes, exhausted._

_"Apologies in advance, darling..."_

 

 

 “I’m not weirded out. I’m a bit worried, yes... but I can’t say anything now, except - we’ll have to deal with that when it comes. So you can be cruel and uncaring... OK. I still love you - but look at me, Jim. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to let anything happen to me that I don’t want.”

Though... I’m reminded of the ball gripping in the bath... during an innocent water fight...

“And if you start being too terrible... I’ll try puppy eyes...” I look at you with big sad eyes.

“I’m sorry I cannot reassure you more, my love.., I have no idea what you used to be like or how I took it... but I survived until now, and what I feel when I see you is love, desire, submission, affection... not fear. So I can’t have been too cowed. So... just don’t worry too much for now, my darling. You have more important things to think about.”

I kiss you in what I hope is a confident and reassuring way.

 

 

_"This is completely unlike me, but I don't actually want to think about New York until tomorrow. I'm exhausted by all this love stuff- is it always so tiring? I don't have the information I need, so I've come up with a few alternate plans and we'll just go over them tomorrow. I think tonight after dinner we'll just have a cuddle on the sofa while we watch another film - I enjoyed that." I blink up at you through the water streaming down around us._

_"What do you think?" I add. I'm not used to asking your opinion - but I know that's what couples do, I've seen it in films. Wait - *are* we a couple now??_

 

 

“I have no idea about love stuff,” I grin. “I’m not exhausted and I am certainly in love, so it might just be the shock of it. But cuddling and film sounds like heaven. And tomorrow we’ll focus on work.”

I am loath to leave the warm wet sweet environment of the shower, but we’ve been in here a while and I don’t want to miss my steak. I turn off the water, wrap you in a fluffy towel, carefully dry you. The dynamic seems to have changed to me taking care of you, and that feels great... It seems to be what I should be doing, protecting my boss, serving my lord, caring for my Kitten...

I get dressed, install you on the sofa, ask you to pick a film - they’re all new to me after all - and head to the kitchen to have a cigarette and make some tea.

 

 

_I sigh with contentment- on the sofa, things feel far simpler. There's just a film to choose, and you to cosy up with when you return. But this whole situation still feels outlandish and unsettling... and ironically, I need comfort from you to help me deal with it. My eyes swing down to the floor where the discarded blanket still lies. Wait... wasn't I supposed to be nursing you?_

_I wander into the kitchen where you're putting a tray together with tea things. "This got reversed, somehow... I'm meant to be taking care of you..."_

 

 

“Oh, you are taking excellent care of me,” I smile. “You have the most important job - choosing the film. Look, I feel fine - but I appreciate you supervising me to make sure I don’t faint from hoisting a tea bag into a cup.”

I take another drag from my cigarette, hold it out to you.

“If I’m a good boy and eat all my steak, will I be allowed a beer with dinner?”

 

 

_I snatch the cigarette from you and inhale. "Well, you're mouthy as ever, that must mean you're feeling somewhat normal... however you had sex three times instead of the prescribed *no times*. So you're already not a well-behaved Tiger... Fine. You can have your beer - one - and just drink it slowly." I hand you back the cigarette, and head back to the living room. We didn't get as far as watching Snatch yesterday, so it seems the obvious choice. I cue it up, and you walk in with the tea tray. The doorbell rings, and you deposit the tray on the table and go off to collect the food._

_I prepare my tea as you reappear briefly with bags, and then head back into the kitchen. I really need to remind you how I take my tea; I like you making it for me. When you return with a tray of food, I'm settled onto the couch wrapped in the blanket, drinking sugary tea from my cup. The smell of steak with roasted potatoes and vegetables wafts through the room, and suddenly I'm ravenous._

 

 

Well, one beer is better than none, but I better savour it. I’ll drink tea with dinner and enjoy the beer during the film.

The food smells delicious; I wonder if tasting everything for the first time makes it all more intense, but the food I’ve had so far has really been amazing.

Or maybe I really like food? You seemed to indicate that. I devour my dinner, and you seem to enjoy your meal too. You don’t object when I pause the film to clear away the dishes.

I go into the kitchen, put them in the dishwasher, try to work out how to turn it on... and can’t.

And just like that, I burst into tears.

 

 

_I'm lying back contentedly against the sofa as you put our dinner plates away. I ate more than usual- you attacked your food with such gusto, and it somehow increased *my* appetite - but then, we also skipped lunch and had a lot of physical and emotional exertion today._

_My heart skips a beat. Shit... I'm doing a terrible job at taking care of you!! All the confusion of emotions and love... has made me temporarily forget how to be firm with you. It *must* be temporary... *that* wouldn't change, would it?_

_I'm staring at the beer bottle sitting on the table with no coaster when I hear the sounds of a crying Tiger... before I know it, I've raced into the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket. I reach out for you as you're standing and staring at the dishwasher._

_"What's wrong??" I demand, squeezing your arms._

 

 

Oh shit, I didn’t mean to alarm you - but I can’t seem to stop crying. Damn, some tough bodyguard I am...

“I’m sorry, Jim... I was trying to switch on the dishwasher... and I don’t remember how it works...” I burst into fresh sobs.

 

 

_I laugh in surprise before I can stop myself. We aren’t supposed to laugh when loved ones are crying, yes? Right…_

_"Darling, it's fine- I can show you-"_

_The sobs are not subsiding, and I pull you into my arms. "Sebastian... darling..." I soothe. "You've had a stressful couple of days. Everything's going to be fine." I caress your hair as I hold you. "Do you want to come sit with me, or are you desperate for a dishwasher lesson right now?”_

“It’s not the dishwasher...” I hiccup, “It’s... I can’t remember anything... I’m useless... you say I’m your second in command, how can I do that if I don’t know who anyone is, how anything works? How are your people going to respect me if I don’t remember their names? What if I don’t remember how to shoot, or kill? How are you going to respond when I’m a burden on you?”

I’m lost... I’m going to be useless... You’ll throw me aside...

 

 

_"The work side does present a challenge..." I agree._

_(And why am I not more stressed out about this? I should be having a meltdown, no?)_

_"But you can't fix it by stressing out about it, in fact, that will probably just make things worse." I stop and think about what I just said._

_"I don't know where that came from," I mutter. My sub-routine for cross-referencing pop culture and pop psychology for data must be in hyper-drive. "So... you'll just have to start learning about the Empire from scratch, and hope your memory comes back sooner than later. And it *will* come back..." I say darkly. "Because I always get what I want. Nobody defies me for long - and that includes the part of your brain responsible for bringing your memory back online. Do you hear me, Sebastian's brain? It's been quite an adventure and I can't say there haven't been some interesting surprises... but enough is enough! You're stressing my Tiger out, and I won't have it." My arms tighten around you._

_"And darling... *of course* you'll remember how to kill people." I soothe, kissing your lips. "You're a natural killer and you're well-trained, Tiger... it's not the kind of thing you'd forget, I promise..." I yank on your arm, and pull you back to the living room._

_"I *knew* I shouldn't have let you do anything today... see what happens when I allow sentimentality to override my controlling ways? Now *sit* your arse down, and be a well-behaved invalid for the rest of the evening. Here's a blanket…" I pull the blanket off my naked body, and hand it to you._

 

 

I can’t help starting to laugh at that - I wipe away my tears, smile at you. “Yes, Boss.”

I hand you the blanket back. “Best keep yourself covered unless you want to risk me overheating...

Sorry about that. I know it’s going to be alright... I was just hit with a shock at... well... not remembering anything. It’s ... well... I don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” I grin.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll remember the important stuff at the right time - but it’s scary not being sure. I’m glad we’re going shooting tomorrow - it’ll give me an idea on what is muscle memory and what isn’t. Mostly, I want to make absolutely sure I know how to protect you when required and I have the weird dual feeling of knowing that I’m the only one who could do that, and fearing I won’t be able to...”

 

 

_I push you onto the couch. "The plan I devise will not require you to know anything. Once we see what you can do on the shooting range, I think we'll have a better idea of where things stand. And in no way am I willing to risk you, me or the wellbeing of the Empire if I'm not feeling good about this tomorrow. There may need to be a Plan B, C, and D in the works... leave that to me."_

_I observe you for a moment, brow furrowing. "Tiger, do *try* not to fret so much. Lean back against the cushions, you don't look like a recovering invalid at all. More tea?"_

 

 

I grab the beer off the table. “No, thanks...

You’re right, but... it’s so frustrating not knowing... anything. Like being lost in an empty black space.” I swig the beer - god, that’s good.

“I trust you, of course I do, but... I remember nothing of how you work. How _we_ work. For all I know, you take loads of risks and rely on me to get you out of it alive. Or... you’re used to me acting a certain way and I’ll not know. You’ll have to instruct me very thoroughly - you’re saying this is important and risky and I don’t want to mess things up because I forgot that I’m supposed to keep a gun trained on the guy in black, or something.”

 

 

_I sit down next to you. "Of course; we'll go over everything in painstaking detail. And if it feels like there are too many unknown variables, then you'll be a sniper and that's that. Now please stop thinking about it, or you'll work us both into a tizzy. Just watch the damn film and cuddle your boss, Tiger..." I swipe the remote from the table, press play and lean against you._

_"I'm not feeling any cuddling yet..." I warn, and hear you chuckle._

 

 

Demanding little fucker... I smile.

I grasp you close, pull you in between my legs, settle in to watch the rest of the film - it’s quite amusing, though I can’t help being distracted by a naked Boss on my lap...

I stroke your chest, your arms, and you absentmindedly take my hand, weave your fingers through mine - so sweet... my lovely Jim, did we ever do this before? I bet we didn’t... and look at how comfortable you seem now...

I nuzzle the back of your neck, smell your scent... expensive shampoo, water, and Jim...

 

 

_When the film finishes, we're so cosy we don't make a move to do anything throughout the scrolling credits, and even when the film returns to the menu screen. After a few minutes I click the remote in annoyance, just to make the theme music *stop*. And then I'm rubbing my face against your neck like a cat, and it feels so damn good..._

_"Normally, I would be on my laptop for the next few hours, monitoring, plotting, causing mischief. It's so strange to take a break from that..." I say, stretching lazily. "But you're very... distracting. In a good way. Do you have any more questions about yourself? Maybe that will help..."_

 

 

“Yes... but... I don’t want to keep you from your work... if you need to-“

“If I need to work I will, Tiger, don’t you worry your pretty head...” You sound irritated and I kick myself - you’re using me as an excuse to relax and I try to take it away from you?!

“Sorry... yes, I’d love to know a bit more about myself... you said I don’t get on with my family... do I have any friends, apart from you? Anyone I’m close to, or even go down the pub with occasionally?”

 

 

_I stop to think, and find myself feeling guilty. "I think... there were acquaintances you used to drink with. But... once we started... flirting? My version of flirting, anyway... you withdrew from that world. Well... I kind of... *demanded* it. Demanded all your attention..."_

_That sounds terrible, doesn't it. But I did tell you I'd demand everything of you... and I meant it. Still - probably a weird thing to hear that you have no friends because your boss whom you’ve been shagging didn't *want* you to... "And I remember before that there was an old army buddy you had a drink with when he was in town... what was his name?" Idly I search my mind map._

 

 

 “I can imagine you’d kind of fill up all my attention span...” I grin. “So - what’s my favoured method of disposing of people? Do I have a special talent? You say I’m a great sniper - is that convenience or is it what I’m best at? How am I in unarmed combat?”

 

 

_"I would say... sniping is one of your strongest *skills*. You do enjoy it, but you prefer more of a challenge - being on the ground - up close and personal, or from under cover - armed or unarmed - you enjoy it all. And there's no one else I would choose over you as my bodyguard, assassin or sniper... *no one*. And not just because you're so utterly shaggable…"_

 

 

 “I do imagine the two don’t mix... though I suspect if anyone is mad enough to jump me when I’m killing it would be you...” I smile. I take another sip of my beer - that tastes good...

“I don’t know what else to ask, really...

Anything you think I might find interesting?”

 

 

_"Well, if you look through your library, you'll probably find quite a variety of books. I've always been impressed by your range. As much as you love your spy novels, you're just as likely to be reading more literary works, and a lot of non-fiction - history, philosophy, sociology, you name it. You seem to have an endless curiosity for how the world works, even though you don't show any interest in being part of society, even criminal society._

_All it takes for you to be content is to work out, have a hearty meal, and sit on the couch, reading - and of course, your vices - smoking, drinking, and shagging. But there's something about reading for you... I guess you can take the man out of Oxford...but... " I lean in and kiss your lips. "You can't take Oxford out of the man... or out of the clever Tiger..."_

 

 

“That’s good...” I consider. “A genius like you would get bored with just uneducated muscle for company I expect... shaggable as he may be. So what about you? What’s your background?”

 

 

_“Self-educated, darling... we don’t all grow up Eton brats...” I fix you with a piercing gaze, then smile. “Although you hardly look or act it, do you… I so love to have you go undercover as a posh gentleman, though... the real accent comes out, and you can do the arrogant facade at the drop of a hat. But it makes you *so livid* that I know that afterwards I’ll be in for a chaotic night with an out-of-control Tiger. Either I have to restrain you and dominate you *extra* hard, or...” I raise an eyebrow._

_“Well, if the mood strikes... you’re quite the aggressor.” I can’t help but smile at the memories._

 

 

I growl. I can imagine the posh twats surrounding me, the only thing making it bearable the knowledge that they’ll be off worse when my work is done... huh. Was that a memory? Or imagination? Either way - there’s deep revulsion towards said posh twats, and the posh twat inside myself.

“I... can imagine that would make me uncomfortable. Thinking of it... not pleasant. Huh. Do you know why that is?”

 

 

_"You know... you never actually told me... And I *did* ask, because I'm so curious about this side of you. How someone with such an aristocratic pedigree ended up the way you did... it's endlessly fascinating to me. But you would get so surly and tell me to fuck off..." I laugh. "From the very beginning! When such a thing could have got you killed! It was a delight being so surprised by you, when very little surprised me... is it any wonder I wanted you? Despite all my rules and better judgement about becoming involved with an employee..." I scoff. "Way to go, Moriarty..."_

_I feel that part of me stir, and I shove it back. I look down at the hand I'm holding (when did that happen?) and I kiss it gently._

_And Moriarty growls, and retreats again into the darkness._

 

 

“Huh. Probably not a happy story then... but as to why I ended up the way I did... well, I guess I was extremely lucky...” I smile, kissing your hand in return, then licking your finger, putting it into my mouth... looking at you with what I hope are irresistible eyes...

 

 

_"Sebastian, darling... do you realize we've fucked three times today? Are you trying to go for four?" I smile indulgently, and don't tell you to stop. I find myself looking into the sea-blue of your eyes as you continue to suck my finger._

 

 

“Have we really? I don’t know, can’t remember...” I say, around your finger. “Also, isn’t that what people do, normally? How could they ever not, when the world is peopled with men like you?”

I make my way down your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist.

 

 

_I scoff. “Oh, you *have* forgotten what the world is like... there is no one out there remotely like me, I assure you...”_

_I watch in fascination as your lips kiss down my wrist. “And I don’t believe normal people fuck four times a day...” I close my eyes briefly. Your lips are making me feel dizzy with excitement._

_“But then... who the hell cares what they do?” I grasp your face, bring your mouth to mine, and kiss you feverishly._

 

 

Oh my. So convenient that you’re only wearing a blanket... now let’s see, what have we not done today? I’ve fucked you, you’ve fucked me - twice - but have I sucked that beautiful cock whilst kneeling in front of the sofa yet?... I didn’t think so...

I slide onto my knees, move the blanket, to reveal you in all your erect glory. I look into your eyes, then bend my head, kiss the tip of your cock.

 

 

_The decadence of the moment is simply gorgeous - to be naked in a luxurious blanket, then unwrapped by you like a priceless gift... and to watch while you sink to your knees to worship my cock..._

_Oh, Sebastian... whatever apprehensions I'm still holding onto, I can't deny this far exceeds what we had before... You kiss the head of my cock, and then your tongue dips down and swirls around the head. Oh - *far, far exceeds*…_

_I've lost track of how many times in the last couple of days I've done a hard override of my rules, fears, resistance and basic common sense... who fucks their injured bodyguard three times the day before going into a potential gunfight?? My head falls back against the sofa cushions... apparently the winning answer is *James Moriarty*... I only hope my lack of judgement doesn't kill us both tomorrow. Because it very well *might*... and on that note, I throw aside all concerns and just enjoy what may very well be the last blow job of my life._

_I stare at you as your lips slide down my shaft, and I moan and move my hand to your hair._

_Oh, who am I kidding... your cocksucking is fucking legendary. *Of course* I'll squeeze it in tomorrow..._

 

 

I’m making you moan... and that is all I need to be moaning again myself... and that appeals to you, judging from the way you’re grasping my hair. I’m doing my very best, and your fingers are pushing on my head, not too hard, but guiding the rhythm, and it feels so hot... how did I object to this before? Like there’s anything hotter than sitting on my knees making you moan?

Huh - I’ve already fallen deeper under your spell, haven’t I? I can’t help it though - you’re so bloody enchanting... my demon prince with the ivory skin, the black hair, the dark pools of your eyes, constantly changing depending on your mood, your voice... ranging from flaming hot to icy cool... soft purr to cutting sarcasm... you’re all I know, all I _want_ to know.

 

 

_"Oh god... Sebastian..." I groan. "You're so fucking good..." I think of all the mind-blowing blow jobs you've given me in the past six months... mostly unreciprocated._

_I feel a pang of something sweep through me - guilt?_

_(*God*… how do normal people *function*??)_

_Oh, Sebastian... the possibility of something going wrong tomorrow once again swirls through my mind. I gaze at you as suck me off, and my hand curls in your hair._

 

 

Yes Jim, grab my hair, guide me, possess me, I’m yours...

I know I’m good, I’d have to be good, or how could I ever be good enough for you?

I put my hands under your arse, push you up to standing, so you can properly fuck my mouth - leaving one of my hands free to stroke my own cock. God, Jim, this is heaven...

 

 

_What a lovely invitation... it would be so rude of me to decline. I start to move my cock back and forth into your mouth, keeping your head in place without grasping it too hard. I look down and see you touching yourself._

_"Sebastian..." I sing, not breaking the rhythm. "Did I give you permission to touch your cock, darling?"_

 

 

Oh - oh god is that - is that how it works? And - fuck, why does that make my cock harden so much? God, your control - your complete control of me... should that make me feel so hot? Shouldn’t it, I don’t know, feel frustrating rather than the opposite?

But - I moan, remove my hand, move it to your balls, stroke them... my poor cock rock hard and neglected...

 

 

_"You *belong* to me, Tiger… every bit of you is mine. So next time... ask before you touch my property. And I may decide to be benevolent..." I give you a wicked smile._

_"But not today... you'll just have to wait, with that cock so hard, so swollen... wait until I'm done, and then... we'll just see..." I whisper darkly._

 

 

I gasp at your words, gasp around your cock... god, Jim... and I realize... I always think those two words together for a reason - you are my god, Jim... god of sex, god of life... you rule my entire existence and that is how it should be, that is what makes me _me_ , I can’t imagine I existed before you... and suddenly the amnesia makes sense, it’s merely an erasure of everything Before Jim, all the trivial dross that I wasted my time on before I was Yours.

 

 

_I smile seductively down at you as you gaze up at me with such devotion and worship in your eyes... and oh fuck, that *does* something to me… lust burns through me and I throw my head back and groan loudly._

 

 

Yes, Jim, my love, my life, feel my love, my passion; enjoy it, take it all in, it’s all yours...

I redouble my efforts, focussing my entire consciousness, my entire being on your pleasure. My cock is a vague sensation somewhere on the periphery - what matters is what is here in my mouth, my hands...

 

 

_"Oh god... Sebastian..." I pant. "No one can blow me like you do... no one... you're – so -" My words are cut off by a gasp as my orgasm shudders through me, making me cry out and shiver against you. It's a struggle to stay upright, but your strong hands are on my hips keeping me in place._

_Is this not an encapsulation of our relationship, I find myself thinking... you focusing on my pleasure and keeping me standing. My sweet, loyal Tiger..._

_I collapse onto the sofa to catch my breath. You watch me from where you're kneeling on the floor. Your cock is still swollen and erect._

_"Magnificent," I finish with a smile. "Would you like to come, Sebastian?"_

 

 

You _cry out_ as you come, and your delicious seed spurts into my throat... I did that... I made you come so beautifully... you almost collapse with the intensity of the sensation, but I got you, my love, I’ll hold you when your knees go weak, while I’m extracting every last bit of pleasure from you...

You sit back down and ask if I want to come, and that reminds my cock that it is very very desperate, yes - I’d nearly forgotten it in my ecstatic reverie.

I look up at you - “Yes, Sir... please...”

 

 

_"Lie down on the sofa, Tiger... "I purr and stand up._

_You do, and I admire your body lying stretched out for me. Your cock is still at attention._

_I perch on the armrest, and cross one leg over the other. "I know, Sebastian... you didn't remember. But do you understand now that you mustn't touch?"_

_I lightly trail my fingers over your balls and cock._

 

 

I shiver and moan at that touch... so light; my poor cock tries to move into the touch.

“That’s going to be hard if I need the loo...” I manage.

 

 

_I scoff. "Obviously you can touch *functionally* - to relieve yourself or take a shower. But for pleasure..." I lift my hand off and shake my finger at you. "*Mine*. Are we clear now, Sebastian?"_

 

 

Yes, yes, whatever you say, just don’t stop touching me...

“I’m sorry Sir... yes, I get it... I’m yours, completely, including my cock... it’s just for your pleasure...”

It is... and it’s fucking hot to _belong_ to you.

 

 

_I look down at your cock, and my tongue flicks out over my lips. "Oh, darling... I'm a little thirsty. Would you mind getting me something fizzy from the fridge?" I fight to keep from smiling, but I'm sure you can see it in my eyes._

 

 

Oh, you fiend - what are you planning?

I get up, looking into your eyes - deep pools of mischief - and go to the fridge, hoping to find something open and a bit flat - but no such luck. I open a bottle of coke, pour you a glass, and bring it back to you. My traitorous cock is pointing straight at you as I sit back down on the sofa, facing you, waiting for your next command.

 

 

_I giggle as you hand me the glass. "How wonderfully... sticky. And here I was thinking of boring old sparkling water… and we *do* have sparkling water, but... no, no, Sebastian... you stay right where you are, darling. Coke is what you brought me, so Coke is what I shall have." I chuckle, then I take a sip as I watch you over the glass. With my mouth full, I lean down and kiss you, letting some of the Coke trickle over your lips._

_"Mmm... so bubbly..." I say, all innocence._

 

 

“You seemed like a sweet and sticky kind of guy...“ I mumble against your mouth after I’ve swallowed the coke.

I stroke my hands over your back - so smooth and soft...

 

 

_Your lips are so sweet... I indulge in kissing them for a moment, feeling your hands caress my back dreamily before breaking away and looking at you._

_"Lie down, Tiger..." I say and you do. I sit on the sofa next to you. Once again, I watch you over the glass as I slowly sip my Coke. Then I bring my mouth brimming with fizzy liquid down to your cock, and slide my lips over it._

 

 

Oh you _bastard_... I knew you were going to do that...

Desperate as my cock is to be touched, it still isn’t sure if we should be entirely happy with this specific situation. The sensation is... really odd - prickly, not _quite_ painful, but it’s taking some willpower to not move away from the weird tingling.

“Ffffuck...“ is all I can manage. I dig my fingers into the sofa, and stay still as the sensation becomes more bearable - and your lips on my cock are certainly more than welcome...

 

 

_I grin, and continue to slide my lips up and down. Maybe I'll quench my thirst again in a moment. For now, I'm enjoying the rhythmic motion and your faster breathing, and then the quiet moaning that begins._

 

 

This is actually quite good - now. Maybe I should try it on you some time - with champagne, that’s more your style, isn’t it...

 _Hnnnn_... yes, please keep moving... god, Jim...

 

 

_I stop just long enough to have another sip of coke, dribble it gently over your cock, and lick it thoroughly clean. Then I resume my ministrations until you're moaning again._

 

 

Oh god... I moan out my desire for you, my love, my arousal, my need... please Jim, please, give me the release only you can give me... literally, since you’ve forbidden me to touch myself.

“Please... oh god please...”

 

 

_I'm sucking you while toying with stopping a third time, but - maybe you've been through enough? So hard to know what's a fun game and what's just cruel... I'm not equipped with the emotional compass to know how to treat someone I care about. Hmm..._

_Your moaning sounds so good, and I'd like to hear it grow more intense... so I start to suck harder and faster._

 

 

Oh my god... oh my god... my groans must be waking the neighbours... god Jim, do you have a license for that mouth? How can you be so incredibly good-looking and good at this? How can I have been so fortunate as to have landed you as my... boyfriend/employer/lord and master/whatever?

“God... Ji- Sir... I’m going to come... please...”

 

 

_I want to melt when I hear you plead to come... *God*, Sebastian... how did I fail to see you for the delectable, sweet, sexy Tiger you are?_

_"Come for me, Sebbie..." I purr, and return to making sweet sounds pour out of you as I cup and stroke your balls._

 

 

Oh yes... I will... I’ll come for you, Jim, all for you, by you, because of you, for you... into you... your astonishing mouth working its magic on me and oh god is this really the fourth time today? It feels so incredibly new and astonishing and I am pretty sure I’ve never ever felt anything this good...

My pleasure concentrates itself into my balls, to explode from there in a red storm through my body, my cock feeling unbearably good, it’s almost too much as I writhe and moan and pant your name over and over and over...

Jim... Jim... _Jim_...

 

 

_I feel the shuddering of your muscles..._

_I watch your face and body go into spasm against me..._

_I hear your name on my lips..._

_I taste your semen shooting onto my tongue..._

_I smell the scent of you..._

_I close my eyes briefly, luxuriating in the sensory overload of your orgasm._

_Mmmm..._

_*Sebastian*…_

 

 

I’m floating somewhere between cloud nine and heaven. It takes me a while to float back to earth, which is even better than either of those, because it has you.

I look at you, your perfect features, your smug smile - like the cat who got the cream, your eyes - looking sweeter than ever.

Am I getting to you, my dark lord? I smile at you, unable to move. “Wow.”

 

 

_I raise an eyebrow. "Yes. I *am* amazing. But so are you..." I concede, ruffling your hair. I look at my hand, baffled. Will it ever *not* feel strange to show affection? To express my feelings? Seems doubtful... I look back at you, and you're glowing. *Aww*._

_"Well, Tiger... you've come four times today. That's definitely *not* what I meant by taking it easy. Don't expect the same tomorrow, darling- we'll need to conserve our energy..."_

_And just like that, the reality of tomorrow breaks the bubble we've occupied all day. Possible outcomes stream through my mind and panic bubbles up in me._

_I hear myself saying, "Only... I don't know if you'll be recovered enough by then, Tiger..." My stomach clenches when I see your face._

 

 

Oh, no... oh Jim don't look like that...

My post-orgasmic bliss forgotten, I sit up, put my arms around you. "Hey. Look at me. Do I look unrecovered to you? Apart from the amnesia and the occasional breakdown because I forgot how the dishwasher works, I'm fine.

My head doesn't hurt any more; I can think clearly. Look - if you want backup, get someone else there in case I mess up. But I'm not staying away and letting you go into danger on your own. I'm _not_ ," I say emphatically when I see you look dubious. Try to keep me away, Jim - and you'll find out just how good a fighter I am.

 

 

_"You seem OK physically! But I can't account for all the variables if you don't have your memory, and I can't- risk - anything - happening to you!" I shout, squeezing your arms tightly. "I *won't*!"_

 

 

To - me? Not to your deal, or even to you, but - to me? Oh Jim...

You find yourself suddenly squashed by an overeager Tiger. I cuddle you close, press kisses everywhere I can.

"You're immeasurably sweet, Boss, but I'm pretty sure that I'm a fine shot still. And we're going to the shooting range tomorrow to make sure. And - take whoever you were going to take with you if I weren't well enough with you _as well_ \- but I'm coming."

 

 

_I try to stay strong as I'm covered with kisses. "To be determined tomorrow... *after* visiting the doctor and the shooting range... and *after* I go over every detail of the plan with you." I look at you fiercely, and you stare back at me with grim determination._

_"Oh, for fuck's sake, Sebastian! I'm not taking unnecessary risks with you after yesterday!"_

 

 

“Well I greatly appreciate that! So I’m sure you will understand that I’m not taking any unnecessary risks with you, either - like letting you go out on your own or with an inferior bodyguard.”

I look at you, defiant. I’ll do anything you say, Boss, but I’m not letting you go into danger without me. Not going to happen.

 

 

_We're locked in a staring match for a very long moment before I take your face in my hands._

_"You can dig in your heels all you like, my dear... but the final word is mine. Amnesia has made you most recalcitrant, Tiger! If we hadn't just had epic orgasms, I'd be tying you up and giving you a review on submission right now..."_

 

 

 “You’ll have to tie me up if you want me to let you go alone tomorrow. I’m not joking - what if something goes wrong and I’m not there? What are you going to do then, Jim?”

 

 

 

_"You realize I'm *capable* of handling situations that have run amok... well, I guess you *don't* realize. But I actually do have the skills required of a criminal mastermind, Tiger..." I eye you, perplexed. "It's not that I don't want my best man on the job, for fuck's sake! But handling a swarm of scaries from New York is not beyond me, and obviously I'd bring some muscle and firepower with me... " I trail off._

_Why are you still arguing with me? And why am I arguing back instead of just barking an order??_

 

 

“I am muscle and firepower. Fuck’s sake Jim, I am not going to be a liability. You can bring _other_ muscle and firepower too - but I am not going to leave you in the care of others. I _am_ your best man. But alright - let’s see what the doctor says. If he says I’m likely to faint or respond slowly - fine, I’ll stay behind. If we go to the shooting range and my shooting is off - same. But if not - I’m _there_. Deal?”

 

 

_I stare at you long and hard. "If I'm confident that I'm not endangering you by placing you in the field too soon... then *yes*. Jesus! I'm not used to *arguing* like this, Tiger... what the fuck is going on? Is this a love thing?" I demand._

 

 

"What, I'm the expert now? I don't know, but I love you and I'm not leaving you to face danger alone. We'll see tomorrow," I try to end the argument. "We should probably go to sleep if we're going to be our best tomorrow... You ready for bed?" I look at you, trying to see if you're ready to stop arguing.

 

 

_I touch your face tentatively. 'Yeah... it's a love thing," I say in a quiet voice. "Let's go to bed, Tiger..."_

_We get ready for bed in relative quiet, brushing our teeth next to each other. You keep nudging me gently with your shoulder and looking away innocently, and I nudge you harder. I pretend to be annoyed, but it's hard not to giggle._

_By the time we go to bed, I'm longing to be in your arms. You pull me against your chest, and I sigh with relief. I listen to your heart beat for a long time before I mumble, "G'night, recalcitrant Tiger... you're a royal pain. And… I love you."_

 

 

I was almost drifting off, but those sweet words bring me back to consciousness, because I wouldn't want to miss them...

"You're an imperial pain..." I mumble, "and I love you so fucking much..."

And with that, I slide into oblivion.

 

 

_I wake up early, squinting at the light peeking through the curtains. I look over at you sleeping deeply - you look so peaceful. You didn't use to look peaceful... Guilt slices through me, and I wince. I had been considering waking you up for some early morning sex, but the guilt is easier to wade through if you're not conscious._

_I sigh and turn around. I stare at the wall for a long time before my eyelids start feeling heavy and I drop off to sleep again._

 

 

I wake up to see it’s well and truly day, and there’s the most adorable man in the world asleep on the pillow beside me. Your eyes have lines beside them and your mouth looks tense; you look worried -because of me?

Gently I lean over and put my arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and you seem to relax, without waking up. For a few long precious minutes I look at you sleeping peacefully.

Then you seem to sense me staring, and open your eyes.

 


	9. The Devil's Lover

_You'd think I'd be used to seeing you in my bed after six months, but everything truly has changed... waking up to the blue of your eyes sends a jolt through me, and I feel like I've lost my breath._

_*Good grief, Jim*... I can't just be knocked on my arse every time I look at you, can I?? That's completely unreasonable! So what's to be done about it? I blank out, then realize I've just been staring at you in a daze._

_"Morning, Tiger..." I murmur, and curl my body against yours for the comfort I so sorely need. I sigh as I feel the warmth of your skin. "Mmmm... how do you feel?"_

 

 

Oh... oh you absolute beauty... the way you look at me, your eyes so open, so sweet, so unguarded... it pulls at my heart. You look almost - confused, like you're not sure what to think about me.

Poor Jim, still getting to grips with the love thing? You do it so well, though...

You resolve your confusion by cuddling up to me, and the look in your eyes just before you do so... so utterly... vulnerable... Oh god my love, my sweet, my prince, my dark lord... I wrap my arms around you, hold you close - I wish I could hold you like this forever, keep you safe from the outside world, from anyone who would think of hurting you.

"Morning, my love," I reply. "I feel great - I have the man of my dreams in my arms, and I'm never going to let him go..."

 

 

 _I want to tell you that you can't say_ _things like that... but then I've only been encouraging you by telling you I *love*you... Good *god*… it's been less than two full days, and my entire world has been turned topsy-turvy. And the only thing that can make me feel remotely stable and calm is *you*… the irony is *not*_ _lost on your Boss, Sebastian..._

_You really do feel amazing... up until two days ago I would allow some cuddling if one of us had a nightmare... I certainly didn't allow cuddling all night and well into morning... or for you to be so relaxed and happy... or for you to say things that could potentially make me start sobbing like a sensitive schoolgirl ... (!!!)_

_Goddammit, Sebastian... Why do you have to be so *sweet*?? I press my face into your chest, struggling not to swoon or burst into tears._

 

 

Your head pressing against my chest - oh am I affecting you that much, my love? My poor Kitten, not used to love... how could you ever live without it, when you're such a beautiful loving soul? Well - maybe not in general - but definitely for me - and how could I not recognize that for so long? Or - maybe I did recognize it, but was too intimidated by you to call you on it?

Whatever it is, I'm so glad I got you to acknowledge and express it - but I'm sorry it's so hard on you. I'll do my very best to make it easier, but then the very action of me being sweet makes it harder for you...

I don't know how to make this easier for you, my dark prince, but I'll do my very fucking best, ok?

I press kisses to the top of your head, stroking your hair.

 

 

_"How does your head feel? Did you sleep well?" I ask, pulling back to look at you. I should be safe if I'm focused on practical things... Only you're smiling at me now, and I'm in danger of my heart melting..._

_"Are you hungry?" I ask weakly._

 

 

"Slept like a baby, my head feels fine, and yes, I'm bloody hungry..." I growl, before diving onto your neck, kissing, sucking, biting...

 

 

 _*Oh*... well, then... *this*_ _is happening..._

_My hand moves to the back of your head, and my eyes close. I exhale long and slow. How did I forget how randy tigers get in the morning? Well, maybe what I need to forget about emotions and the love thing is what's pressing against me insistently at this very moment... I pull your head off my neck and kiss you hard._

 

 

Mmm... yes Boss, that's exactly what I was hungry for... I lie back, pull you on top of me, moan into your kiss as I feel your body rub against my erection.

 

 

_I look down at you. God, you're ridiculously hot, aren't you..._

_"What pray tell would Tiger like for breakfast?" I ask in a breathy voice._

 

 

"Ooooh, I don't know... I have a hunger for these beautiful hands..." I say, picking up your hand and kissing your palm, "that mouth..." kissing you, "that magnificent cock..." rubbing my erection against your rapidly hardening counterpart. "What about you, Boss? See anything you'd like to taste?"

 

 

_"Well, it's quite an extensive menu..." I say, looking thoughtful. "And everything is so very good... it makes it difficult to choose..." My hand moves to your cock, and I kiss you more slowly this time._

 

 

"Might I recommend sampling a bit of everything? I just want you, Jim... I don't care how, I don't care what... I just need you..." I murmur against your mouth, then groan as your hand tightens on my cock.

 

 

_You big, randy lump... you sweet, adorable Tiger..._

_"Oh, I don't think there's time to sample *everything*, darling... we have to get to the doctor’s and the shooting range this morning. So why don't we just..." I pull myself to lean over you, and position my cock in between your arse cheeks, rubbing it back and forth. "... get to the main course..." I stretch out to grab the small tube from the bedside table. "...which is *you*, Tiger..." When I look back at you, the blueness of your eyes intently watching me once again sends a jolt through me. Oh, Sebastian... you *so* need to pay for what you've done to me..._

 

 

" _Fuck, yes..._ " I groan as I feel your cock eager for me. My Jim... My love... "Fuck me, my dark lord... I want you inside me." I look at you with what I can only imagine are smouldering eyes, and I see the fire reflected in yours...

Your beautiful dark eyes full of death and sin and love and desire... oh my multifaceted lover...

 

 

_“Dark lord, am I?” I raise an eyebrow, feeling pleased. More than pleased... Ink-black desire sweeps through me and I lunge at you, devouring your mouth._

_“You want me inside, Sebastian?” I breathe against your lips. “Surely you’ve seen enough horror films to know... when you invite dark beings in, you’re at their mercy...”_

 

 

“Fortunately I cannot recall watching _any_ horror films... but I utterly _love_ being at your mercy, my dark love... “ I kiss you, move my mouth to your ear, nibble at your earlobe.

“I don’t know what happens in horror films, but I doubt it features orgasms as amazing as I know my personal dark lord can deliver... I’ll gladly sell my soul for that...”

 

 

_"Well, then... at my mercy you shall be. Kneel in front of the bed frame, Tiger..." You look at me with such intrigue and desire, and follow my instructions. I reach into the drawer of the nightstand, and pull out two sets of handcuffs. I lift your arm up and secure it to the metal frame of the bed. Then I kiss you while securing the other one. I examine my work - you look so unbelievably hot, all naked and muscular… and powerless. I shake my head in amazement._

_"Oh, Tiger... this is *such*_ _a good look for you. Like you were *made*_ _for chaining to a bed..."_

_I trail my hands along your back._

_“*My*_ _bed..." I growl, and bite the back of your neck. "*No one else's*..."_

 

 

I groan and resist the urge to arch my head backwards so as not to restrict your access to my neck. "Yours, Jim... yours alone, always..."

It feels so incredibly hot to be kneeling here, at your mercy, ready to be taken - by you, by Jim, of course, no one else, never... the thought is inconceivable... the mere idea of being with another man is physically repulsive. But you... your velvet voice and granite growl; I'm groaning already and nearly shivering with desire for you.

 

 

_I move my hand along your back, and the already faded marks from yesterday._

_"I was just going to take you hard and fast, Tiger… but it looks like these stripes need freshening up..." I saw in a low voice, and slide my tongue up your neck. You shiver._

_"I think we can go a little harder today, don't you?"_

 

 

Thank fuck, you no longer think I'm an invalid... and the thought of you whipping me makes my knees tremble in anticipation.

"Yes... Sir... Yes please..." I whisper.

 

 

_I pull your head back gently, and kiss you until you're panting. I hop off the bed, and return to the walk-in closet. Hmmm... I introduced you to the working end of a black snake yesterday, how about a sturdy stock whip today?_

_I return to where you're waiting quietly, and I gaze at your beautiful body, and your blonde hair, and I'm overcome by desire and longing for you. I crawl along the bed, and press against you, rubbing myself against your muscular body._

_"You're so beautiful, Sebastian," I sigh against your neck. "And I want to make you even more beautiful, my majestic Tiger... the thought of today is disconcerting to me, my darling... Actually I'm feeling freaked out, I’m not fucking used to that, and I need you to be *all mine*..." I press my lips against your neck._

_"All mine, my Tiger..." I whisper._

 

 

"Yours, Jim..." I say again. "Mark me to prove it, as much as you want - proclaim it to the world - I'm yours, and incredibly proud to be so. I could never be anything else. Don't freak out, my love... take your stress out on me, it'll feel much better. And I want it - I need it... I need to feel your strength, your power... my Jim..."

 

 

_I press harder into you, inhaling your scent. I'm intoxicated and bewitched by you - your body, your face, your smile... your sweetness, your darkness... your passion, your strength... your beautiful fucking love and devotion... What did I ever do to deserve you??_

_"You really want it? It's not just to please me?" I ask, closing my eyes. "Because- it does please me... very much. So much so that I never cared before why you did it... But you - give me so much, Sebastian. And now I *need*_ _to know- Do you truly desire it, my Tiger?" I breathe into your ear. "Do you *long*_ _for the pain I can give you?"_

 

 

“Do I- ?! God, Jim, how can you ask that...”

I smile, but then I realize - how do I know? I’ve only felt you whip me once, and apparently that was a mild taste - how do I know I’ll love it as much as I expect to?

Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?

“Jim... my Jim, reach your hand around me. Feel how incredibly hard the thought of feeling your pain is getting me.

The thought of being _yours_ , being a vessel for your pleasure... is incredibly hot, I’ll grant you that, but I’m not so keen to suffer _just_ to please you - I _want_ this. I want to feel your pain. I long for it - there’s nothing I want more.

I don’t know what it was like before - I can’t recall - but my body remembers, and my body is absolutely dying to feel it again...

So please, my dark lord... let me feel what it’s like to be the devil’s lover... bring me your pleasure, bring me your pain...”

 

 

_I smile and stroke your cock slowly. "Feels like desire to me...” I purr, “...and the Devil's desire is to give you what you asked for... and a little bit more..."_

_I continue to stroke, and then I nip your neck and withdraw my hand. I stand up on the bed and step back far enough to wield the whip. I flick it experimentally once... twice... and the third time makes a luscious lashing sound as it makes contact with your skin, just above your shoulder blade. A raised red mark slowly appears on your skin, and I lash a matching one onto the other side. A euphoric rush surges through me, and I throw my head back and exhale._

_"Tiger..." I say low in my throat. "Welcome to my pleasure and pain..."_

 

 

Oh god... it’s not become any easier since yesterday, but I need it, god I want it... such a weird double feeling, but so good and hearing your aroused tone makes it all suddenly ten times hotter. I love the sensation, but hearing how _you_ love it, hearing your voice tremble slightly with the excitement, even as you welcome me to your infernal paradise, makes me shiver in delight.

I gasp as your third stroke hits me - this is harder than yesterday, but I’m so incredibly horny, it’s like every lash hits me for only a second before the pain is transformed into pure lust. I moan...

 

 

 _Your gasp is pure magic - it sends another euphoric rush through me, with an undercurrent of darkness and lust. "*God*,_ _I love having someone at my mercy, Sebastian... you have no idea... " I say breathily and lash you a fourth time, smiling at your ensuing gasp._

 _"But you're not just *someone*_ _are you..." The fifth lash teases out a moan from you, and I shiver. "You're my *fucking Tiger*, you're *mine*, and no one else can have you..." I lash you again for another moan, and I'm not disappointed._

 

 

Your words send electric currents through me, yes, god Jim yes, I am at your mercy, completely and utterly, and I love it, and I love that you’re loving it... And of course I’m yours, like I could ever be anyone else’s... or even my own man... what bleak prospect compared to the fiery dark ecstasy of being yours...

My back is on fire and I moan as the lashes keep coming down, I pull on my restraints as I involuntarily flinch away, but I can’t, because I’m at your mercy, and that is where I’m supposed to be, where I want to be, helpless under your pain... so incredibly intoxicating...

I screw my eyes shut at your next lash, groan - in agony or ecstasy, I couldn’t tell you...

 

 

_Hmm... you're flinching. Too much, my sweet Tiger? Or are you hovering near the sweet spot, before you tumble into the ecstasy of the pain I've given you? I look at your back, pleased with the stripes I've given you._

_"You're doing so well, my darling... you're so unbelievably hot... Just a few more stripes before I take you, my majestic Tiger..." I purr and lash down against your arse. I close my eyes and let out a small moan of pleasure._

 

 

Oh god, you lashing my arse feels - incredible - and your words- and your _moan_...

I groan as I spiral deeper and deeper into your enchantment, into the soft black velvet of your voice, into the fiery bliss of your whip on me... and that’s it, I’m gone, I’m lost, there’s no more Sebastian, just your desire, will I ever be able to express how rapturous it is to be nothing, to be pain, to be your pleasure? How that is a high incomparable with anything? Not that I’d know - but I know...

 

 

_I watch you through half-closed eyes as your body reacts and your head falls back as you're groaning with pleasure. I'd know that sound anywhere... it's the sound of my Tiger, finding his way back home... I continue lashing your arse and down to your thighs._

_"Yesss, Sebastian..." I croon. "I've marked you well, my beautiful Tiger... you belong to me, and me alone, my love..." I bring down a final hard lash across your arse, and toss the whip aside. I throw myself at you, pressing my body against your reddened back. I rest my face against your neck._

_"Oh god... I love you, Tiger..." I breathe into your skin. "I love you..."_

 

 

I’m already in a state of unsurpassable bliss, I think, but find it can be surpassed after all when you throw yourself onto me and say you love me, unbidden, so sweet, so softly, almost - as if it surprises you yourself... oh my sweet sweet love...

My back glows against your cool skin, I moan - I want more, more sensation, more pain, more you...

“I love you... Jim, my Jim, I love you so much... god, take me, take me hard... make me feel it - please...”

 

 

_"Yes, my darling... I'll make you feel it... I will have you, my love..." I nuzzle your neck, and press a small, damp kiss behind your ear. I move back and run my hands along the welts on your reddened skin, and you shiver deliciously. I spot beads of blood peeking through the skin at a couple of spots on your shoulders - I lick them hard, and when blood seeps out again I suck it from your skin._

_"All of you," I whisper, and you shiver again._

 

 

Oh god, you made me bleed - and you’re sucking up my blood, you demon angel...

All of me. Yes. Flesh and blood. Yours.

I shudder, bend my head in surrender, waiting for what you will do next - it’s the most blissful suspense, not having a say in what will happen next, and not wanting one - whatever you decide is what I most desire.

 

 

 _Once I've lapped up your blood, I wrap my arms around you and press myself up and down your body. My tongue moves along your neck, to the sensitive spot behind your ear and up to your earlobe which I suck on and then nibble delicately. Your shivers are coming fast and furious now. Your head rubs against mine, and now delicious shivers are running through me_ _..._

 _"Mmmm... you're so *intoxicating*, darling. Tiger's blood is a potent aphrodisiac... " I sound positively drunk with desire. You have fucking *bewitched*_ _me, Tiger... I'm_ _supposed to be the one with the seductive charms, and here I am rubbing myself against you and moaning like a besotted fool._

_All right, *enough*... pull yourself together, Jimmy. I find the discarded tube and re-apply lube to myself. Then I push my fingers inside you, and make you ready to be taken *hard*._

 

 

I’m glad you like my blood, my love, because it’s yours, like all of me... fucking _made_ for you... I’m shivering under your kisses, and then you’re preparing me for your cock, and I shiver even more - god, yes, feeling you inside me, feeling how you are loving fucking me... I can’t wait...

I moan, push myself onto you. You’re not being gentle, and that is perfect - I need it to hurt... I need to feel I belong to you, I need to feel it always...

 

 

 _I feel your muscles relax just enough to take me in and I withdraw my fingers, and push my cock into you. One of these times I'm going to have to be gentler with you - but all these *feelings*_ _have me on edge and I have to blow off steam somehow, don't I? Really, it's the *considerate* thing to have rough, raunchy sex with you. Not that you seem to mind one bit, if your moaning is any indication... mmm... *Sebastian*... I've pulled your hips back forcefully, so I can lean over your back. You're still cuffed but your hands are holding the bed frame for support - probably not super-comfortable, but this is going to be down and dirty. One arm is wrapped around your hip and abdomen - the other arm is draped over your shoulder, holding onto you possessively. With each thrust, my body is pressed against yours, my arms pulling you back against me._

 _Soon our bodies are moving together in writhing waves of intense pleasure and moaning... I've never moved like this in my life and it's *really fucking good*... but where the hell did it *come*_ _from? Usually sex is me doing something *to*_ _someone... it feels like our bodies have taken over and become some kind of dyad - which sounds romantic, but with loud grunting and violent thrusting... and you're moaning "Oh, fuck me hard, Jim!", and I'm growling, "Yeah, Tiger? I'll give it to you fucking hard!" which isn't romantic *strictly speaking*…_ _but I'm feeling pretty fucking glowy, like I can't get enough of you... Bloody hell, Sebastian... *I can't get enough of you*!!_

 

 

I’m tripping, I’m flying high, I’m on a fucking magic carpet...

You push yourself into me and it makes me gasp, it’s almost too much, which means it is perfect, I want to dance on that razor’s edge, please, my dark lord, drive me to the edge, dangle me over the abyss, then let me soar...

You find your rhythm inside me, I accommodate, and it’s a beautiful dance of sex and sweat and grunts and sweet pain and excruciating pleasure and I moan and beg for you to fuck me hard and you do, and I hope we don’t have neighbours...

My cock is rock hard and leaking, my hands are desperately gripping the headboard, my head is arched back, my arse, thighs, and back are glowing, and this is what heaven must be like... heaven is in the hands of a dark-haired sadistic narcissistic psychopath, because Mother Nature has a great sense of humour...

“Fuck, Jim - I love you I love you I _love_ you...” I’ll say it until the end of the world, Jim... I cannot believe I didn’t say it before... I cannot believe you didn’t... we are perfect together... absolutely motherfucking perfect...

 

 

 _My heart glows. I reach around your hip and begin to stroke your cock. And then everything gets that much hotter... I'm so used to *denying*_ _you, making you *wait*... which can be most enjoyable for a controlling little shit like me, but right now hearing you groan so loudly and thrust hard into my hand while I'm ramming into you is so unbelievably hot... every thought is driven from my head except *fuck, you're SO HOT*_ _and *FUCK, I love you*_ _and the words even escape from my lips, and this seems to be all it takes to push you over the edge, my sweet, randy Tiger..._

_I'm rocking my hips against yours, driving deeply into you, as I listen to you gasp and moan, and then you're shaking and jerking against my hand and shooting against the bed frame... and I'm crying out as my body is going into spasms against you, and I'm coming inside you so hard..._

_I collapse against your back, as I struggle to catch my breath. And it feels so amazing to rest, but I know your arms must be sore from the restraints... apparently the love thing makes one think of things like that. I pull out of you regretfully and reach up to unbuckle the cuffs. You're taking a moment to stretch out your arms, but I pull you down insistently and we end up falling in a heap on the bed._

_"Fuck..." I gasp. "That was new..."_

 

 

Motherfucking mother of god... this is... fuck... you handle me like meat and you know exactly where to put your hand, how to move, and that sensation on top of your cock pounding into me... I think I roar when the climax sweeps over me, subtle like a bowling ball to the head, I see stars, fucking fireworks, and it’s all I can do to hold onto the headboard and keep myself reasonably still for you, and I’m rewarded with a strangled cry when you come inside me... My muscles are trembling as I’m holding myself up, but you release me and pull me down and hold me in your arms.

“New?” I ask surprised. “You didn’t feel like you’d never done that before...”

 

 

 _"Oh, right... you don't remember. No, usually I fuck you. Once in a while I *allowed*_ _you to fuck me. This felt different - like our bodies just took over... and we were fucking each other. I didn't expect it, and it - surprised me. It was really fucking good," I say, stunned. I move my arms around you, and I see you flinch._

_"I need to take care of your back, Tiger. Roll over..." I get up and pause to admire your physique and your beautiful stripes. Then I disappear into the bathroom and return with an antiseptic which I apply to the spots that have bled a little. I then apply aloe gel to your skin, all the way from your shoulders to your thighs. I smack your arse._

_"Gorgeous. How was it for you, Tiger?"_

 

 

“Hmmmmm?” I purr. You rubbing soothing cream into my back was just - mmm.

“That was... just absolutely fucking stunning. I don’t know what it was like before, so I can’t say - but you felt so incredibly good - everything you did, everything you said... it was like... I was just sinking deeper and deeper into this pool of lust and ecstasy...

God, I _love_ you whipping me, saying you own me - it drives me crazy. And the fuck - man...” I shake my head. “Like I said, I don’t know what it was like before, but this was stunning. And if it’s better than before for you, then I’m sure it was for me as well. I loved it - I love you,” I say, turning onto my side, taking you in my arms.

“You’re the best Boss and lover I have ever had...” I grin.

 

 

_“I’m sure that’s true, even though you don’t remember...”_

_A strange feeling of discomfort is creeping over me, but I recognize it this time... after an orgasm, I’ve been freaking out. So ... don’t freak out, Jim. How do you *not freak out*?_ _I stare at you - I can’t exactly ask you, can I? You were crying about the dishwasher yesterday... and you weren’t exactly the picture of mental health before._

_“Um… You should be aware that I apparently freak out after every orgasm now. It’s terribly inconvenient and terrifying. But there we are. Perhaps it would have been better for you not to get involved with me, Sebastian? I promise not to kill you if you want out. I can’t promise I won’t stalk you, but I’ll do my very best.” I touch your face hesitantly. “I’m so sorry...”_

 

 

What...?!

No really... what?!

“Wait – what, Jim? Rewind a bit? You freak out after orgasm now? That is - something new? So - has to do with the love stuff that you didn’t use to do before? So - ok... does it help if I say I love you and hold you, or is that the worst thing I could do? Tell me what you need, Jim...”

I’ll get into the not get involved nonsense later. Get you calmed down first.

 

 

_"Of course it has to do with the love thing," I say, patience fraying. "I never freaked out after orgasms before!! I suppose my life was a low-grade freak-out constantly ready to be unleashed on the unsuspecting public... and innocent people... bad people... Tigers... oh god..." I cover my face with my hands._

_"I was... horrid. Truly horrid. To you, I mean. I don't care about the rest. I'm so sorry. You deserve better." I get up, wrapping myself in a sheet. "So- if you like, I can have a driver take you to your apartment. I can give you a referral for a new employer, you won't have any trouble finding new employment-" I cross the room, looking at the floor._

_"Just do yourself a favour and don't sleep with your next Boss - I think that was epically bad judgement, darling.” I close the door, and hurry down the hall to my office. I lock myself in, slide to the floor and burst into tears._

 

 

I’m too gobsmacked to speak, to do anything, as I am subjected to the most painful load of bollocks I’ve ever heard - I’m sure. I want to shout at you, hug you, talk sense into you - but my throat is locked and my brain incapable of response, and I’m watching helplessly as a dejected little boy in a sheet leaves his bedroom and scuttles off.

The click of the door seems to release the hold on my brain and I shout at myself to fucking _fix this, Sebastian!_ and jump out of bed, to see you rushing into a room at the end of the hall and close and lock the door.

I walk up to it and hear sobs on the other side - and they tear me apart –

“Jim?” I knock on the door. “Jim, please, open the door. Don’t sit there being sad. I love you - I’m not going to leave you; it’s the last thing I want. Please. I don’t know what you were like before - so it doesn’t matter. You are sweet and lovely and caring now and I love you so much... please Jim... don’t be sad... let me in...”

 

 

 _"Sebastian! You have the absolute worst_ _taste in men if I'm who you love!!" I shout, panicking. You're so sweet and loving, and if you keep talking, I'm going to open the door and fall into your arms and that can't keep happening!_

_"You were an absolute slut before you met me... why don't you go back to that, you were so good at it!" I hear the words that came flying unbidden out of my mouth, and I choke back a sob. I get up, look around wildly for something to throw. I settle on an office chair, and hurl it at the window. It doesn't break, and I scream obscenities at it. I detach a cable from the printer, and when it's free I hoist it up and glare at the window._

 

 

“Fuck you too, Jim - at least I wasn’t a psychopath taking my emotional confusion out on office furniture -

I don’t know anything about before, or taste, but I love you so much and it hurts me to hear you hurting... please let me in, Jim, and we will talk...

I’m not leaving. And if you don’t open this door, I’m going to bash it in, and that might hurt my head...”

 

 

_My mouth is in a tight line as you speak, and I'm doing my best to block out your voice. I lift the printer higher, and then look back at the door._

_"Just fucking leave it, Sebastian! Yes, I am an emotionally confused psychopath! So you're safer and better off without me! And since when do you hurt your head bashing a door in??"_

_I throw the printer and watch the window shatter._

 

 

There’s a window shattering now and I’m pretty sure I’m failing my duty as a bodyguard by not doing anything, so I kick at the lock hard - fortunately it’s not a reinforced one and the wood splinters. Another kick, and the door swings open to reveal a naked distressed little boy looking at me with fury and fear. My heart bleeds at the sight and I’m across the room in two strides, wrap you in my arms.

“You’re right, that didn’t hurt my head at all. And I don’t give a fuck about being safe, and I don’t believe that I would be better off dying of a broken heart.”

 

 

 _I look up at you, then look away. My chin trembles. "Why do you have to *say*_ _things like that when I'm trying to do the right thing for once in my life! Or... for the first time in a very long time..." I look back at you and your face is so beautiful, I wince._

_"You wouldn't die of a broken heart... you barely know me, and you've - forgotten what I'm really like." I already forgot, it's not who I am anymore... not with you..._

_Tears are rolling down my cheeks. "I don't know- how to stop this..."_

 

 

“Jim... my sweet sweet Jim, my love...

I don’t know what you were like, all I have to go on is what you are like now... and I love you so fucking much... please stop asking me to leave, it hurts...

Look, as far as I know, you’re a sweet loving caring... sadistic narcissistic psychopath, and I love you so much it nearly hurts. I don’t know what you were like before, and I don’t care - and neither should you. You are not like that now, and if you go back to being a bit of a dick, I’ll tell you - and we can burn that bridge when we get to it. But - stop beating yourself and your office up over something I can’t even remember.

Jim, my dear - love changes people. You’re a different person. And I’m madly in love with you. And I’m not leaving, no matter what you say.

Let’s get you a nice warm bath, help you relax... then get some breakfast... not give you another orgasm, and you’ll be right as rain.”

 

 

 _"Not give me- I'm not going to avoid fucking orgasms, am I? With *you*_ _around, are you mental?" I look up at you, and choke back a laugh. I lean against you and sigh. "I don't want that. I like being with you. I like fucking you. Being fucked by you."_

_I press my face into that spot on your neck I love so much, and breathe it in._

_"I just don't want to have a meltdown every time…"_

 

 

“I _meant_ not have another orgasm before the job, randy little fucker,” I grin.

“I will not be denied epic sex with you - that’s unreasonable torture. I’m sure it will get less as time goes on - it’s just the novelty of it; you’re not used to feeling love, and there’s probably some trauma associated with it, and it freaks you out. Once you have worked out that there’s no bad stuff happening, it’ll be better...”

I have no idea if what I’m saying makes sense, but I’ll say anything to make you feel better... and there’s no way I’m giving up either your love or your orgasms.

 

 

 _"Well, Dr Moran, I hope you're right. Because this will get very tiresome very fast for both of us." I wipe my eyes, sniffle. "It's only fair to tell you... if you left, I'd be stalking you. Threatening or killing any potential partners, sexual or romantic. I wish I could be a better person for you, but... I've avoided having a weakness my entire life. My entire psyche and *existence*_ _is designed to not have a fucking weakness. And somehow... I ended up with a big one. A big, blond randy soldier who just broke down my office door because I was crying and I broke something... ever heard of giving someone space, darling?" I manage to sound indignant, but I'm sure you hear the smile in my voice._

 

 

“Never heard of it, Boss,” I deadpan. “It didn’t come up in the two days I have recall of.

So, first of all - please stop talking about me leaving. I’m not leaving. I love you and I love being with you. You say you were a twat before, but even then I didn’t leave you, so what makes you think I will now you’re sweet and adorable? Shut up, you are.

Second, I’m not a weakness, I’m a strength. Having a good bodyguard is great. Having a good bodyguard who is mad about you? That’s some next-level security, my darling... unbribable, no threat too big, and absolutely _lethal_ vigilance.

Which kicked in when I heard the window break - I couldn’t very well sit back when you might have cut yourself or something. And - if you want privacy - just say the word. But not when you’re sad. Because as a loving bodyguard it’s my job to protect you from heartache. It’s in the job description, look it up.”

 

 

_I listen intently as you speak. I want to argue but I don't have the strength. I just want what you're saying to be true - so badly._

_"All right," I say slowly. "Point One. I'm neither sweet, nor adorable. And I certainly didn't say I was a *twat*. Way to infer *that*, Tiger. But, fine - I won't talk about you leaving anymore..._

_Point Two. Yes, you're a strength. And you're the best security in the world, there's *no one*_ _I want protecting me more than you. By weakness I meant - I can't control my feelings around you. About you._

_And if your job is to protect me from my own damn feelings, then- you have your fucking work cut out for you, darling. And you need a hell of a lot more danger pay."_

_I heave a sigh. "We still have some time before your appointment… You mentioned something about a bath?"_

 

 

“Yes. You’ll be bathed.” I pick you up, ignore your protests that you’re perfectly capable of walking, and carry you to the bathroom, where I put you down on the edge of the bath and start the taps, look through the smelly stuff until I find something that claims it’s soothing for sore muscles - it’ll do - and pour in a generous amount. I’m delighted to see it makes foam as well - I think you like foam. You seem like the kind of guy who likes foam.

“I’m sorry you can’t control your feelings about me, but I think that’s kind of the thing with feelings - you can’t control them. I’m sorry this is something that upsets you - but I’m with you every step of the way, Jim. You won’t have to face it alone.”

The bath is filling up and I step into it, giving you my hand, easing us down until I’m sitting with my back against the side and you’re in my arms. I kiss your neck, breathe softly into it.

“I’m always here for you, Jim... I don’t remember _anything_ , but I know with every fibre of my being that I’m _yours_ , and I’ll do anything for you... Except leave you.”

 

 

_"Or ignore me breaking things in another room," I grumble. "I wasn't in any danger, and you broke my office door! Now where am I supposed to storm off to in a huff? The bathroom?_

_And what will I break, the mirror? What a *cliché*, darling - the madman breaks the mirror, *oh*_ _how reflective - *yes*, on so many levels!" I turn back and look at you. "I'm deflecting now, Sebbie - but it's better than breaking things, yes? You really are so sweet..." I say wistfully and kiss your lips. "But so impatient! I would have opened the door eventually, silly Tigger..."_

_I manage to turn myself around so I'm on your lap, and leaning against your chest. I bend my knees to curl up on you, and I sigh with contentment._

_"Mmm. Foamy. Good bath, darling..."_

 

 

Oh my sweet psychopath kitten - curled up in my lap, sighing in my arms - I hold you with one arm so you don’t slide away, use the other hand to stroke your shoulder, your arm, wash warm water over you. It’s a lovely deep bath and we’re submerged to our necks. I rub your neck and shoulders and feel you slowly become less tense.

“You’re not going to sit around naked and huffy in an office with a broken window, you’ll catch a cold, and then I’ll have to keep you under a blanket,” I murmur lovingly in your ear.

I pick up some foam, place a dollop on your nose - thank god, it makes you giggle.

There’s massage oil on the side - it looks unused, but I open it. “Can you move with your back to me, and I’ll massage your neck?”

 

 

_"But I like it here..." I say, pressing my face into your neck. "I just got here..."_

_You really are sweet... how can I deny you wanting to give me pleasure?_

_I sigh and slither off your lap so you can reach my neck. You've never massaged me before... I wait to feel your strong hands get to work on my muscles._

_"Anyway, I had a sheet...I would *not*_ _have caught a cold," I grumble. "And you're_ _the one who should be under a blanket... I don't know why it's so difficult to keep one on you."_

 

 

Your poor neck - someone must have thought of this, bought the massage oil - but then it never happened.

Your muscles are hard as rocks, and I go to work on them gently, rubbing, pressing with my fingers, but not squeezing. I can feel you relax under my ministrations, you sigh contentedly - what kind of boyfriend * _was*_ I, to never have done this before?!

The water is warm, the light through the frosted window filtered further by the steam, you are literally softening under my hands - I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of soft, sweet contentment, love, peace. My Jim in my arms, safe, warm, quiet, loving... this moment should stay forever.

 

 

_*Oh*… I've never had a massage before, never wanted anyone to touch me like that._

_At first, it feels uncomfortable - like my muscles are too hard and want to be left alone. I consider telling you not to bother - but you seem so into it, and I don't want to deny you anything in this moment._

_Then I feel warmth seeping into my muscles, and tingling... I had no idea how *numb*_ _my muscles felt until they *weren't*… almost like I've been a statue *all this time* and you've started bringing me back to life..._

_I blink at the thought, noting the feelings that are rising not just in my muscles but in my heart. Good god, Sebastian... it hasn't even been two full days yet. What will become of me by the time you're through??_

_I'm aware of the process of panic beginning in my body, but I'm feeling really good and even content - so I flick the panic switch, like a kitten batting a toy. And the panic retreats. Hm - good trick, I think drowsily. I'll have to tell Sebastian about it, I find myself thinking as I close my eyes._

 

It’s so good to feel you relax... my lovely psychopath. How could you ever think I would leave you, when my entire being is so focussed on you?

Is that unhealthy? Am I only like this because of my accident? Might it be that I’m just - filling my mind with the only thing I’ve seen - you?

Well - does it matter, really? I’m utterly and completely obsessed by you and I’m perfectly happy with that.

But - what if it passes when I’m subjected to other people?

 _Really,_ Sebastian? Do you honestly think something this intense could be just a - fluke?

Well, I don’t know! I don’t know what _anything_ is supposed to be like!

Well, sod it. I love you, you love me, we’re fucking happy and I’ll take it. Also, you’re nearly falling asleep in the bath.

“Jim, my love... time for breakfast?”

 

 

_"Oh... you go ahead, Tiger. I'm fine..." I mumble, and a moment later, my eyes fly open._

_"What time is it? We have to get to your exam and the shooting range, and then go over the plan... how do you feel? It's time for breakfast, darling..." I turn around to look at you, and you're gazing at me with amusement and love._

_"Yes, Sebastian...?"_

 

 

“Yes, Boss. You’re absolutely right.” I smile.

I get up, help you out of the bath, hand you a towel and dry myself off. We go to the bedroom, I get dressed in what seems to be my favourite outfit, from the amount of them I have - combat trousers, a t-shirt, a shirt open over that.

Something feels wrong though. Missing. Half naked.

I check - belt, pants, socks, shoes all present. Missing.

What? I close my eyes, my hand reaches for something that isn’t there. What _is_ it?!

“Jim? What am I not wearing?”

 

 

_I glance back from the wardrobe where I’m finishing dressing, and turn back._

_"Your dog tags and your leather jacket. And you don't have your gun."_

 

 

Gun! That’s it! That’s what my hand was missing! And - my hand goes to my throat. “Where are my dog tags?”

 

 

_"You're asking me? I haven't seen them... when's the last time you - Have you seen them in the last two days?" I ask as I stare into the full-length mirror and straighten out my clothes._

 

 

“I didn’t even know I wore them until you mentioned it. Now I realize I miss them, but... so... no. I must have lost them at wherever I got hurt?”

 

 

_I wince. "Well... if someone found them or took them, then they know who you are... that could be very not good..." I stop to think. "I had you set up the meeting space and check in with a few contacts, to stack the decks against our friends from New York. Including a few minions from the New York syndicates, who would have had no idea of your true identity._

_So if something happened with one of them... it would be easy to trace you back to me. And the bosses would know I had behind-the-scenes business going on that was not in their favour. Only I'm not sure... if you were found out, how you ended up back here and not... dead?" My insides twist._

_"Tiger... we need to check every room you've been in the last couple of days, just to be sure..."_

 

 

“Hold on - do I commonly wear my dog tags, stating my name for all to see, when I go meet people who are not supposed to know who I am? That doesn’t sound like something someone with your genius would approve of.”

 

 

_"You would only wear them if it was OK for people to know who you are. Not on a covert mission._

_But *if*_ _they're not here, then either they got lost while you were last wearing them, or... someone took them from here. And no one knows where James Moriarty or Sebastian Moran live..." I look at you steadily._

_"Let's look around the bedroom - look under furniture in case they got accidentally kicked. Then you check your room and I'll check the bathroom."_

_I start to scan the floor and look behind furniture, my heart pounding. I don't like this one bit…_

 

 

“Where would I normally put them if I was leaving them behind?” I ask reasonably, hoping you’ll say in a drawer or something, and we’ll find them there.

“On the nightstand,” you reply, which is not what I wanted to hear.

We make our way to the bedroom, move the nightstand away, look under the bed.

 

 

_I sigh. "I don't know, Tiger... we'll keep looking, but... no, I'm not going to speculate on what this could mean until we've done a conclusive search. I'll keep looking in here, you go on to your room."_

_You look stressed out as you leave. I am *definitely*_ _stressed out._

_But I'm not going to freak out._

_I am *not*._

_I look in every spot in the bedroom I can imagine something so small ending up. Nothing._

_"Any luck in there?" I call out to you in 'your' room._

 

 

“Nothing but a load of dust on most things - I didn’t go in there much, did I?”

I can see you’re worried. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Jim... I wish I could remember... well, anything...

So let’s go over possibilities. Did I sometimes wear them under my shirt when I didn’t want people to see them, or always leave them here?”

 

 

_I look at you uncomfortably. "You used to wear them, and I would freak out at you. You assured me that you were good at what you did, and no one would ever see them. But once I threatened to throw them down the sewer if I ever saw you wear them again while on a covert mission. And you stopped._

_I always suspected you did it once in a while just to be obstinate. But I never caught you in the act, so... they remained with you. Until now..."_

_Our eyes meet._

_"So... it's possible you did wear them out..."_

 

 

Why would I do that? It does sound unnecessarily risky - but then - I can imagine myself being cocky. So - we have no idea where they were when they disappeared.

“It does seem the more likely option - why would someone break in here and only steal my dog tags, coincidentally also on the day that I lose my memory?

Unless-

What if I didn’t make my own way back here? What if I was brought back? That’s something that’s been puzzling me - if I didn’t remember my own name, how did I know to get back here?”

 

 

_"Yes, it crossed my mind too... but with everything that's been going on, I didn't address it... and I really should have. That's on me, Tiger..." I start to pace._

_"I was confused about how you ended up here... I thought perhaps you automatically headed back after you were injured, and fell asleep or passed out - and then lost your memory by the time you returned to consciousness. Which is still a possibility, but- the dog tags are a strange coincidence. You check the bathroom, I'm going downstairs. Meet me there and we'll check the living room and kitchen."_

_I feel an urge to kiss your worried face before I turn and head for the stairs._

 

 

Damn it. My memory loss has turned from a personal inconvenience into a potential danger for both of us. I’m the worst bodyguard ever.

I check the bathroom - a likely place, I might have realized I still had them on in the shower and taken them off and put them somewhere - but no luck. I even check the bin, behind the toilet - but nothing.

Wait.

“Jim? Do I ever smoke roll-ups?”

 

 

_"No, never..."_

_I immediately return upstairs and go into the bathroom._

_"What - did you find??"_

 

 

I hold up a dog end that was behind the toilet bowl. “It’s not been stubbed out, just stopped burning. Like someone threw it at the bowl to extinguish it and didn’t realize they missed.”

 

 

 _"Motherfucker..." I mutter. "Put it on the window ledge. I'll get a specimen bag and we'll have it tested for DNA. It'll take a while to get the results, but I'm not letting this go. I will find whoever was here and I will roll them_ _in butcher paper and set them on fire since they like to smoke..."_

_I look at you darkly. "I'll be back."_

_I run downstairs and return a moment later with a specimen bag and tweezers, and drop the singed scrap of paper into it._

_"We don't have a lot of time... I want you to get examined, but I'm not sure if there's much time for a shooting range... how are you feeling about potentially shooting people... quite possibly a lot of people?" I smile at you fiercely._

 


	10. Frisky Death Wish

“Sounds like the perfect date,” I grin. “But - Boss - can you explain what you think has been going on? If I was hurt by New York - how could they know I wouldn’t remember? Or even if I lost my memory before they took me back, and they knew - why would they take me back here? They knew you knew where I was, or had every reason to expect so - so why risk hurting me and then just showing up to the appointment?”

 

 

_"I can't explain it. It makes no sense to me - yet. After your examination, I need some time to think... and something will come to me. Then I'll be on my laptop for a while, checking on a few things so I can revise my plan. But first things first, Tiger - breakfast."_

_You trail after me as I once again head downstairs._

_"Sit," I say, gesturing to the sofa. "Rest now while you can..."_

 

 

“I don’t need rest,” I say, walking with you to the kitchen.

Like I could just sit and wait when you might be in danger. Fuck, why can’t I remember anything?! I want to smack my head but that’s likely going to anger you, so I won’t.

You growl at me to rest, I growl back that I can’t, and we make breakfast together. I do my best to think but nothing wants to come. I’ll have to trust your brilliance...

 

 

_Breakfast is quiet. We're both distracted, locked in our own thoughts. We just sit, eat our sandwiches, and drink cup after cup of coffee. It's not awkward, though - we always did well sitting together in silence. I appreciate that about you. We clean up, and there's a bit more interaction - some nudging and snickering, a few sweet touches and kisses. And before too long we're back in the car, being driven to the doctor's office._

_I turn to look at you. "How are you holding up with the whole amnesia thing? The doctor probably won't have any new information, and will just be checking you physically. Are you still feeling upset about that?"_

_I congratulate myself at sounding concerned - I *am*, but I need to have a sense of your mental and emotional state before I can agree to have you participate in tonight's meeting. I have a bad feeling about it, and I need to know you can handle anything that happens... because if anything were to happen to you... I stare out the window and will myself not to freak out. It works, somewhat - but I'm realizing something rather surprising._

_Tiger is not the only one I need to worry about not being at the top of his game..._

 

 

“I’m mostly upset about not remembering information that is relevant to your safety,” I reply. I really feel fucking frustrated about this whole thing - I’m the key in this whole mystery and I’m as much use as a chocolate teapot.

The doctor looks into my eyes and ears, pats my head, asks me to read letters on a wall chart, which all goes well, then asks me the name of my mother and I stupidly look at you, as if the doctor is actually interested in my mother’s name and I will need you to provide it.

She shakes her head: “Physically you seem absolutely fine, but the amnesia is obviously still in place. This can happen - there is no saying when your memory will come back, or, I’m afraid, if it will come back.

It might help to listen to music you used to enjoy, go places you used to go, engage in activities you used to do, etcetera. Also taste and smell are powerful memory triggers, so eating foods you like or smelling things like old deodorants might help, but there is no definite aid - it’s going to be trial and error - and it may just resolve on its own.”

She looks at you apologetically. You scowl, but seem at least reassured that I’m physically OK - maybe I’ll finally be allowed a beer and a seat on the sofa without that blanket.

 

 

_When we leave the doctor's office, I'm quiet for a while on the ride home... just staring at the window with a frown on my face. Then I worry you think I'm angry at you and I'm not… and I really should be thinking about tonight, but instead I'm going to check in with you. God. Will I ever get used to having goddamn feelings, and worrying about somebody's *else's* feelings? Doubtful…_

_"Well, we should definitely try those things... I just wish she had given us those suggestions before… we don't exactly have time today to trip merrily down memory lane, and visit places you would have known, or engage in common activities – like, ‘Hey, Tiger- try shooting that guy from a rooftop and see if it triggers your memory'. I suppose you could listen to music or go around sniffing random things in the apartment while I get to my laptop and check out a few things..."_

 

 

I know something I’d like to sniff, but I guess this is not the right time.

“So - I went to meet with some people from New York and some people not from New York. At some point I lost my dog tags and my memory. Then I was brought back here by someone who smokes roll-ups.

Do any of our own people know where we live?

And - Jim - are there any drugs that cause memory loss? Could this be not an accident, but an intentional message? Bringing me back here instead of killing me, taking my dog tags - it all seems a bit deliberate to me.”

 

 

_A chill is moving through me, and I'm covering my face with my hand. "No one is supposed to know where we live, including our own people. But … it's conceivable that someone figured it out. And yes, clever Tiger… it does seem deliberate. I have no idea about drugs that cause memory loss, but I'll get on it and find out - god, if there are, what a good resource!"_

_I look at you, eyes narrowing._

_"And if someone deliberately did this to you... if someone is sending me a message through you..." I pause and smile coldly. "Well. We'll just see what we want to do about that..."_

 

 

“So - it might be our own people, or New York. Regardless, the operation is compromised. As your security officer, I sincerely advise against going tonight.

Now - it’s the dog tags that worry me. I mean - if I had an accident, they freaked out, thought you would kill them, so decided to slip me into bed - that would be understandable. But then where the fuck are my dog tags?”

 

 

_“I don’t see the point in taking them unless it’s to make a statement... well, I like to make statements, too...” I say in a lazy voice. “I just need a little more information. And look at you, my security officer- making judgement calls like your old bad self. Are you going to strong-arm me if I decide I still want to go?”_

 

 

I look at you askance.

“I may, if you don’t give me a very sound plan. And it better be better than ‘you walk in and shoot everybody’, because though I like the thought, I’m not sure that they won’t be expecting it.”

 

 

_"Oh, Sebastian..." I say with delight. "Your memory might be gone, but you really do *know* me, darling. *Of course* that's what I saw going down... only it wasn't just shooting, I pictured other fun toys like explosive devices and flamethrowers... Hmm... you *may* be right, but don't discount my plan completely._

_We're home, Tiger - just give me a few minutes, and then we can figure out how to best have our fun..."_

 

 

“I’ll leave it up to you, my genius... I’ll scavenge the apartment for more clues. They weren’t exactly subtle, if they were having a fag - and they didn’t mean to be, if they took my dog tags.”

I open the doors for you, then you go on your laptop in the kitchen - we should get your office window fixed, and the door - and I go on a systematic search of the apartment.

I find a black hair that’s too long to be yours, but nothing else - scuff marks on a doorpost could be mine, who knows - not me, because I know nothing.

I take the hair to you - “Know anyone with shoulder-length black hair?”

 

 

_I’m scanning information on my laptop, vaguely aware of you searching the apartment. When you bring me a hair to look at, I glare at it._

_“Someone with a frisky death wish? Do you have any idea how many employees and contractors I have? No one in my inner circle of employees has hair like that... but no one is above suspicion, either... who knows how far this thing goes._

_I did some research and several prescription drugs can cause memory loss, but the results narrow when you’re looking for drugs that can cause amnesia. The good news is it shouldn’t last - not like regular amnesia that can go on and on.” I see you flinch, and take your hand._

_“All of this has to be connected, your memory loss included. It seems like someone wanted to take you out of the equation - but by making some kind of statement that they could get to you, instead of just killing you? Or maybe they didn’t want you to share something with me that happened? Still, it seems awfully complicated... If someone’s in the way, people generally just kill them, they don’t drug them to take away their memory, and then take them home and tuck them into bed... before stealing their dog tags and having a smoke in the toilet?” I sigh and rub my eyes._

_“Quite the weird little mystery. Maybe I need to hire a...” I start laughing maniacally, and you look at me in confusion. “Oh, Sebastian... I do hope your memory comes back soon, because I’m sure you’ll find my thought *most* entertaining. But no - we won’t be hiring any clever little detectives, we can take care of this ourselves...” I giggle to myself as I return to my laptop._

_“You can put that hair in a baggie, too- I’ll get someone to pick up both specimens to take to a lab. So - did you find anything nice to sniff?”_

 

 

“Yes, it’s sitting right here,” I grin.

“So - could it be a power play? A show of ‘we can take your best man and make him helpless, we can get inside your home, you better give us what we want?’ Would that make sense, from New York’s point of view? They must know you’d figure it out. “

 

 

_"I suppose it could be as simple as that. It's sort of sweet - 'Oh, we're so resourceful, look at what we're capable of! Now cower at our sneaky ways!' Well, I *liked* seeing you wearing nothing but your dog tags - and someone's going to suffer the consequences of taking that away from me," I say, staring at my laptop. "Besides we can't have anyone knowing where we live, so... best to kill them all, just to be safe."_

 

 

“I do approve of that, but we don’t know for sure it’s them. It could be our own guys messing up, or doing a power grab. It could be an entirely different party.

I mean - imagine I’m meeting up with some of our guys. I slip on a wet floor or something, am out cold. They panic - they broke the boss’s boyfriend! But when I wake up, I lost my memory. Rescue! So they bring me here, maybe give me a sedative first, and to be extra clever they take my dog tags and place them somewhere far from the scene of the accident, so we’ll think _whatever_ happened, it happened there.

Thing is, we don’t know. And if we just go in and shoot New York if they’re innocent of all this, it’s going to strain transatlantic relationships.

We could do a sweep for fingerprints... does it take long to identify those?”

 

 

_"A few hours, at least... oh, Sebastian! I really *liked* the idea of blowing up a warehouse full of New York mobsters... What else are we going to do on a Wednesday night?" I look up at you from my laptop._

_"Yes, *of course* you're right, Tiger… let's not cause transatlantic chaos just for my own amusement,” I huff. “I have a couple of calls to make - do you remember how to sweep for prints? There's going to be a pick-up for the specimens in about an hour."_

 

 

“Eh...” Do I remember how to search for fingerprints? No, of course not. How do I know it’s a thing, but not how the thing works?

“Can you show me? I’m sorry...”

You look at me with an unreadable expression on your face; load a tutorial video, give me the supplies. Watching the video is odd - when I see it I realize I already know it, but I don’t know it before watching it.

I go through the apartment with the kit, trying to think of places they’ll have touched that we haven’t, but I’m having trouble thinking of any. I try doorknobs and light switches, hoping we haven’t wiped away their prints.

 

 

_Poor Tiger... also, it would be very convenient for your memory to come back soon, please - if we're going to get to the bottom of the mystery of your memory loss, it would be helpful to have access to your memory, and I know that doesn't make sense, but... I don't care._

_I make my calls... and then steeple my fingers and sink deeply into my mind map._

_No employees who have knowledge of this address admitted to being here 2 days ago..._

_But one sounded off when I asked..._

_Hmm. Upon further research it's discovered that he has connections to New York, is planning a move there... could this have been an offering to a crime boss... to get in good with his organization? Deliver information about me and my second in command?_

_But how did he figure out my identity? That's a whole other ball of wax that I need to address._

_Can't have gangsters dropping by to play peekaboo and drug my Tiger any time they want..._

_Now... what to do..._

 

 

“I got one that I don’t think is ours.”

I walk into the kitchen with a few bits of tape. “See, this one has a loopy thing at the bottom middle that none of yours or mine have...”

 

 

_I blink at the piece of tape. "Good eye, Tiger... include that with the specimens, by the front door._

_I have something, too - an employee who knows our address (but shouldn't know our identities) was being evasive when I asked questions... and is looking to make a move to a New York crime syndicate. If he was looking to make a deal, and gave them our information... it could be this is a power play by one of the crime bosses. To show us they can get to us anytime... intimidate us before the deal, make us think they have us over a barrel? It's pretty cute._

_The only question is... if I'm right, is this the work of one crime boss... or all of them?"_

 

 

“How many are you dealing with?” I ask, leaning against the counter.

I’ve got two guns and a knife on me - the thought that anyone knows where we live does not fill me with confidence. I keep checking out of the windows.

 

 

_"Four... but of course they’ll each have their merry men with them…"_

_Silence. I raise an eyebrow._

_"My warehouse explosion is sounding better and better, isn't it? Unless... they make a move before tonight. Not that I think killing us is their main objective, or they could have done that already. They want the deal, so they can sell their merchandise here. Without the deal, they don't have access to the buyers and middlemen I have lined up. Maybe they want the names so they can deal with them directly instead of through an agent of Moriarty's. But if they think they can get their paws on the information, then in their minds nothing's stopping them from killing us after..."_

 

 

“Hmmm... or it was indeed a move to make you more amenable to give them a good deal, showing that they already have quite a bit of influence even on your territory...

If we knew for sure it was them, we could just blow them up, but if it isn’t, we might seriously piss off people who are important...”

My voice trails off as a thought occurs to me.

“Jim. Don’t _I_ have a mobile phone?”

 

 

_"Who doesn't have a mobile phone? You have your regular phone and god knows how many burner phones. When's the last time you saw it?"_

 

 

“I have never held a mobile phone in my life, as far as I know... it was certainly not in the bedroom or the bathroom. There were some phones in the drawers, but they didn’t look in use. I’d assume I’d keep it on the nightstand or in my trousers, wouldn’t I?”

 

 

_"Yes... Unless it was in your jacket. Why don't you go check... right now."_

 

 

Nothing, in any of the jackets hanging from the coat rack.

“Please tell me you have put a tracker in my phone...”

 

 

_"Darling... who do you think you're asking?" I return to my laptop, stroke the keys. "Huh. It appears to be in a hotel. I wonder if your dog tags could possibly be in the same place..."_

 

 

“I wonder too... and I wonder if they’re getting really scared because we haven’t done anything so far - think we’re playing a dangerous game, when in fact we were too busy falling madly in love to pay much attention to missing attributes...”

 

 

_"I'm sure they didn't consider that as a possible factor when they launched their little plan," I say drily, then stand and pull you into a hungry kiss._

_"Foolish, foolish mortals..." I whisper, my arms around your neck. "I'm feeling extremely motivated right now, darling... and it's not just about protecting the Empire..."_

 

 

I growl. “Anyone so much as thinks about considering the possibility of crossing you, they’re dead.” I wrap my arms around you, pull you as close as I can. This is my Jim, and he’s going to live a very long and happy life... If I have to kill each and every person in New York to ensure it.

 

 

_"That's the spirit, Tiger! I'm going to do a search and see which of our friends from New York is staying at this hotel and what room they're in... that'll be even quicker than waiting for hours for the results from those specimens._

_Now, darling..." I say, tilting my head up towards yours. "We've been cooped up in this apartment for the last day and a half... Do you fancy an outing? This hotel is in a *lovely* area, we could stop for a drink after..."_

 

 

“Why, are you inviting me to a hotel? Some light murder, followed by dinner and drinks - and possibly a nice suite afterwards?

So... they must know you’d have a tracker in the phone, so they are obviously going to be waiting for us. Might it be a good idea to call them first, see what they want?”

 

 

_I sigh. "Tiger, you are hell-bent on keeping me from my lovely, murdering tirade, aren't you... they found out where we lived... they *drugged* you, for fuck's sake... and they taunted us with their little clues... but if you want us to have a chat first, I *will*..."_

_I take my phone out of my pocket, feeling a sulk coming on. "But this isn't *nearly* as much fun..."_

 

 

“I bow to your superior judgement, as ever,” I reply, “but I’d like to know for certain that A, we are killing the right people, and B, there is no risk for you involved. And preferably little risk for me. I’d like to spend longer than a day and a half with you. I’m greedy like that.”

 

 

_I throw my head back, and give you a spectacular eye-roll... "*Yes*, let's make sure we're killing the right people... Of course you're right, Tiger... let me just give the people who stole your phone a shout and let's see what they're up to... maybe *they'll* want to meet for drinks..."_

_I look at you and screw up my face. "Oh... that was overkill on the snarkiness, wasn't it? I didn't use to care how I made you feel, so this is new to me. I'm sorry, I just - I'm *upset*, Sebastian... they could have done *anything* to you. And I need to make someone *pay* for that...”_

 

 

“OK, but you want to make the right people pay. And to be honest - I want to know what they did to me and why. I’m as angry as you are, my love - and I’ll come down like hellfire on whoever did this - but I would love to know what ‘this’ is - an accident, drugs, a message to you.

Though -“ I look down at you and smile. “They brought me you. The real you. So maybe I should buy them flowers and champagne...

Don’t worry, I’ll add poison...”

 

 

_"My, poisoned champagne... quite the elegant assassin, Sebastian..." I pull you down into a fierce kiss._

_"All right... let's just call our little friends and have a chat..."_

_I grab a burner phone from a drawer, call your number, and hit the speakerphone option. As we hear a ring, our eyes meet. Two rings... Three..._

_"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice answers. New York accent._

 

_"Oh, hello..." I say in your posh English accent which you always cover up unless you’re playing a role. "You seem to have picked up my phone... I wonder if we might be able to arrange my getting it back. I'm happy to pay for your trouble..."_

_Silence._

_"Who is this?" the voice demands._

_"The owner of the phone," I say pleasantly. "Look, I can meet you at any time and place. I'd just like my phone back..."_

_"Is this Sebastian Moran?" the voice asks._

_"Yes! Did you see that on my phone?" I say, grinning at you. "Where did you find the damn thing anyway? I'm - having a hard time remembering where I left it..."_

_"Are you." The voice sounds hard._

_"Yes, I've just said... Do you know something I don't?"_

_"I know a lot of things..."_

_I hit the Mute button. “Apparently he knows *a lot* of things! Down to business or should I play with this one for longer, darling?"_

 

 

The voice... that voice you put on sets my teeth on edge. Is that what I sound like? I realize that I do, but I don’t let it out - when I speak, I force my voice to be different. I wonder why... you said I was the son of a Lord, so I’m trying to hide that? OK.

But quite apart from the voice, the realization that there’s someone on the other side of the line... some cunt who knows what happened to me, who may have caused it...

Oh, there’s my homicidal side. Hello. I’d wondered about you. I like you, I think... You’re warm and satisfying...

“Let’s kill them. But let’s try to interrogate them first - if at all possible without too much risk.”

 

 

_*There's* my murderous Tiger... what was it, the accent? Should have thought of that sooner..._

_I give you a vicious smile and hit Unmute-_

_"Actually, I'm having some issues with my memory... I must have bumped my head..." I confide to the caller, sounding perplexed. "And - it would really help to have my phone. Can we meet soon?"_

_"Sure... we can meet soon...How about in an hour?" the voice suddenly sounds less threatening, and takes on a friendly, soothing tone. "I'll give you my address."_

_"Would you mind terribly if I give you my address? I'm not feeling very well since the head bump..." I say sadly. "I'll compensate you for your time, of course..."_

_There's a pause, and muffled talking. "No problem... I'll come to you."_

_"Oh, that would be just wonderful... Here's the location." I rattle off the street address of one of many properties suitable for interrogations and killings. "Thank you so much, it's very much appreciated..."_

_"Sure, sure - see you soon, Mr Moran."_

  _I press End on the phone, and throw it on the counter. "Play date is all set. I'll arrange for some back-up... but are you sure you're feeling ready for this, Sebastian?"_

 

 

“Are you kidding?! Like I’d pass up the chance to have a chat with the guys who did this to me?!” I grin and I see from the appreciative look on your face that it’s a scary one. Good.

“So, what do you think they think? I mean, you do a great Moran, but they know you’re here, and so they probably suspect a trap. Also, they know that this is not your address. So. We can expect they come in looking to overpower us, _or_ have some superior negotiation power. How badly do they think you want this deal?”

 

 

_"They can suspect all they like, it won't make them any less dead at the end of the day. It's a fake apartment I have under your name - a decoy for anyone who's looking for you. There's a hidden entrance to a lovely adjoining suite, all cosy and soundproofed for quiet conversations. You look worried, Tiger - I'll have men waiting in both suites... being fake passers-by in the hallway, the lobby, the stairs... snipers in the building across the road... men on standby, ready to infiltrate the suite if they don't receive a coded message by a certain time... The usual._

_Only you don't know the usual, do you... if they're looking to overpower us, they will be overpowered. If they're looking to out-negotiate us, they will learn the hard way that we don't negotiate with rude men who try to change the deal they were given._

_I can't speculate about how badly they think I want it - a lot of time and effort was put into this deal. But! It's the way of the Empire that not all seedlings grow into hardy plants. And if the plants are overrun by greedy pests, then..." I shake my head sadly. "New York will *bleed*. And blood is an excellent fertilizer, did you know? All that tasty nitrogen, mmm - plants just guzzle it up."_

 

 

“You know you’re hot when you’re scary?” I can’t help leaning over and kissing you, a fast, fiery kiss.

“Have your guys look out for snipers, yeah? And explosives. And - yeah ok, ok...” I pipe down when I see your ‘are you having a fucking laugh’-look. “I’m just worried about you... don’t want anything to happen to my shiny new boyfriend.”

Huh, that word makes you cringe? Bless you... partner in crime, then. Whatever. Whatever you are, you’re fucking precious and no one is going to touch you. Except for me. An awful lot, when this is over. Doctor said nothing about avoiding exercise.

 

 

_Oh, you're so delicious, Sebastian - with hunger in your eyes for sweet, sweet payback, and then your vigilance kicking into overdrive to ensure my safety, and then..._

_..._

_*boyfriend*_

_!!!_

_the word slams into me like a battering ram. Boyfriend?? What are we, sixteen? Not that I had the inclination for a boyfriend at sixteen with everything I had to deal with in those dark days..._

_*Boyfriend*... for Christ's sake, Moran. I need to focus on more important things, like keeping the both of us alive long enough to wreak bloody vengeance._

_I hear a text alert, and stare at my screen - a welcome distraction. "They'll be here for the pick-up in five minutes - get the specimens we've collected. At the back of the building, you'll see the loveliest garden. There's a potted tree with a compartment in the base, just leave them in there. And I'll make my phone call."_

_I watch you go and select speed-dial._

_*boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend*_

_Fuck's sake, Moran!_

 

 

I take the bags with the specimens to the potted tree, head back upstairs. Halfway up the stairs, I have to stop because a sudden headrush makes the world spin. Damn. It takes quite a while for the violent dizziness to stop - look; I do _not_ have time for this.

I stare at a fixed point on the wall until the stairwell is kind enough to stop its dervish dance and sit still, then continue my way upstairs. They are _so_ going to pay for this. And I am _so_ not going to tell you what happened. You’ve got enough to worry about as it is.

 

 

_I give lengthy orders on behalf of Mr Moriarty, and several implied threats if any of them are not followed to the fucking letter. When I hang up, I stare at the entrance to the kitchen. How are you not back yet?_

_First I’m angry because it’s my default, then I’m panicking because it seems to be a new alternate default, and do I need to run outside and find you?? No, I hear the door and footsteps, and I’d recognize your walk anywhere you big beautiful soldier, so I’m stopping myself from coming to see you, and I force myself to wait until you enter the kitchen._

_“You found it? Is everything *all right*? Why do you look pale??” By the final question I’ve stood up and started to move towards you. Why are you pretending to look at your phone and not me?_

 

 

“I’m fine, just a bit worried.” Do you buy that? Like fuck.

“Got a bit out of breath walking up the stairs. Think I’m not quite in shape yet - must be all that lazing around.

How are the preparations coming along?”

 

 

_“Preparations are done. You on the other hand...” I regard you as I walk up to you, assessing._

_“Out of breath, you say... from the stairs? Any other little symptoms you haven’t shared that I should know about?”_

 

 

“I’m fine,” I insist. “Look, stop worrying. The doctor didn’t say anything. I’m physically in perfect shape. You’ll see just how much when we’re done tonight...

I assume we’re not coming back here now the place has been compromised? Should we pack some stuff?”

 

 

_“We-ell, I was hoping we’d take care of the problem in one fell swoop - but until we’re sure all parties in the know have been eliminated... yes, pack weapons and whatever clothes and things you’ll need for a few days. The car will be here in 30 minutes.”_

_I watch you leave to go upstairs, and follow quietly to observe from around the corner. What were you hiding? Do I need to inject you with a nice sedative and drop you off somewhere safe? And then just deal with a groggy, livid Tiger later? I don’t like the idea of administering a drug without knowing what you may have already been given..._

_Hmm. Decisions, decisions…_

 

 

“If you think I don’t notice you stalking me I assume you’re also thinking of getting a new head of security...” I call out to you hiding behind the corner. “Look, I’m _fine_. And you should be packing too because I don’t know what your favourite clothes are.”

I throw some different outfits in a bag, carefully load my weapons in different cases. See you frowning at the large trunk I’m carrying - “Look, I’m not going to leave these here for all and sundry to get their mitts on. Those are good weapons.

Do we need any explosives, grenades, that kind of thing? Where do we keep those?”

 

 

_“We can’t bring every single weapon in the car - there wouldn’t be room for us, darling! I’m having a trusted employee pack up weapons and delivering them to another location, and they’re being picked up by someone else later. As for what we need today, yes, by all means - bring a few grenades for the jamboree. Check the cupboards in the spare bedroom, and Christ knows what you’ll find in your own bedroom wardrobe...” I call out as I head into my own wardrobe._

_I throw some clothes in a suitcase as well as a few favoured whips and restraints._

_I know you’re hiding something from me, Tiger..._

 

 

I reluctantly leave most of my trunk behind, just taking the weapons I need - I would have felt better if I’d had a chance to go on a gun range, but I am fairly confident I know how all these work and what they do. Probably more significant to me than the dishwasher.

I look in the wardrobe - ah yes, there’s a hidden compartment. Grenades – yes, I remember how they work. Ah, and those look like tools for if you want to convince someone that they want to tell you stuff. Also useful. Let’s take those.

I’m not quite sure what this squishy stuff does - I think it’s some kind of explosive but I’m not sure how it works, so let’s leave it.

What’s this paper down the bottom? Oh god - old porn magazines? Oh my, what did I like? What did I wank to before I joined your bed? This might bring back memories...

The top one features gay BDSM - well, there’s a surprise. So does the second one, and the third, and... ok, my preferences are clear.

There are a few featuring girls at the bottom but they look old - yeah, early nineties. I must have had an ‘I’d like to be straight and not kinky’ phase. But I did keep them... and the girls are kinda sexy...

Hold on Moran, you can investigate your sexual identity some other time - you’re killing people, remember?

I look round to see you stand in the doorway.

“Eh...”

 

 

_Of all the things I expected to see... it was_

_*definitely...*_

_*not...*_

_*this...*_

_My eyes narrow._

_“*Darling*... are those are so important to you that you’re bringing them along?” I say in a soft, purring voice. “You don’t have time to choose your favourite ones... although the girlie mag you’re hiding looks fascinating! That young lady is remarkably... *bendy*...” I say in a savage tone, and storm to the bedroom to grab my suitcase._

 

 

“No... fuck... _Jim!!_ ” Oh fuck... come on...

“Jim...” I follow you into the bedroom. “I didn’t know I had those, did I? I was looking for explosives... found some grenades and some squishy stuff which I’m not sure of how it works... and those were at the bottom... and I didn’t recognize them, so I looked at them to see what I used to like... see if it’d bring back any memories - but it didn’t. Also, if it’s any consolation, they were all dusty in the bottom of the cupboard and the girlie mag is from when I was a teenager.

Jim...”

 

 

_"Ah, memories," I sing... "Nothing like an extensive porn collection to reconnect us to days gone by... strange that the doctor didn't suggest it *straight* away!" I shove you aside with my suitcase and stomp across the bedroom._

_"So, Sebastian! Did anything *come up* for you? You know what, that's between you and your pretty magazines. I am not *remotely - fucking - interested*!" I shout and head for the door._

 

 

Jesus Christ.

You did mention you’re possessive, didn’t you? Well, I’m not going to apologize for finding porn mags in a wardrobe.

But we need to clear the air or we’re not going to be our best and we should be.

“James Moriarty.” I say as I block the door with my foot. You snap around and your look makes me wither and die. But there’s no going back now...

“I was looking through my wardrobe to find fucking explosives to save your fucking arse. After I’d lost my memory in your fucking service, possibly deliberately by guys who want to send you a message. All I know about myself is that my entire fucking existence is _you_ , protecting you, loving you, fucking you, being hurt and possibly killed for you. And that’s _fine!_ But then fucking _trust_ me, alright?! I wasn’t looking at those mags to be turned on - I just wondered what I’d liked before I got you! And I can tell you I didn’t look at them after I got you - they were all the way down and dusty! And I wasn’t interested in what I saw - I was just wondering what I’d been like!

And we’re going off and as far as I know I’ve never shot a gun in my life, but I’m going to risk it because I _need_ to protect you because you _are_ my life, and if we’re going to risk both our lives we’re going to be our best and we’re going to be in perfect fucking harmony because I’m not risking your _fucking_ life by being anything else!

And if you want to punish me for having porn magazines _before we were even together_ then you can whip the shit out of me tonight, but now we are going to be mature and responsible killers!”

 

 

_“But you *kept* them, didn’t you? The lovely lady brigade with their buoyant breasts and luscious lips?” My stomach clenches and I try to repress a wince._

_“You don’t even remember if you miss them or not, do you... or *did it all come back to you*? You know what, if you want to be fucking bi, then *go be fucking bi* - nobody’s stopping you!!_

_*You pursued me, remember*??”_

_Oh my god, do I want to cry *now*... with a car coming in 20 minutes to take me to a potential ambush?_

_FUCK... Moriarty... *help me*._

_I shove you at the door, glaring._

_“And the only one who’s going to be a killer today is *me* - I know you’re hiding something from me, and that’s not *mature or responsible* of you, my head of fucking security! So *you* are being dropped off at a hotel, and *I* will attend this meeting with another bodyguard! And don’t forget your beloved magazines so you can keep yourself occupied!!”_

 

 

“Oh for...

 _I’m not bi OR gay! I’m fucking yours!_ I don’t give a fuck about any other people of whatever gender!

And if you think you’re going _anywhere_ without me, you’re sorely mistaken!

 _Yes_ , my fucking genius, I did hide something from you - stupid, I know, I didn’t want you to worry. I had a dizzy spell on the stairs. The only one in the past few days, and I’m sure it won’t come back.

But - Jim...”

damn it - eyes, stop leaking-

“Don’t go without me... you need me... bring whoever else you like, but take me with you... I- _need_ to protect you... it’s all I know... and I know you want to protect me, and it’s sweet, but... I need to be there. Protecting you... is all I know... _you_ are all I know... all I want... Jim...”

 

 

_"Oh, you defy categorization… how *progressive*, Tiger!" I sneer. " Well, I don't want you thinking about things you can no longer have, I want you thinking about me!!"_

_I glare at you as you cry._

_"It won't work," I sing. "It won't work, it won't WORK, Sebastian! Don't try to pull me in with tears!" This just makes you cry harder - *of course*. Walk away, Jim..._

_I start to shove my way through the door, then toss my suitcase aside and lunge at you._

_"Tears *won't matter* if you're fucking DEAD!" I shout, shoving you hard. "What the FUCK are you doing hiding things from me! I need to know *everything*, every single variable, especially to do with you!! It doesn't matter if there are other people with us, I'll still be focused on YOU! Don't you *fucking* keep something like that from me again!! Don't you DARE make me feel something for you and then get yourself hurt or killed!" I shove you again, and stare at you wild-eyed and panting._

 

 

Fuck - is this what you meant? The cruel, callous you? So possessive and jealous you’ll just shove me aside? Ignore my tears - make me feel ashamed of them - like I wasn’t ashamed already to be standing here crying in front of you just before a job...

You push me aside and go through the door, leaving me, your broken unreliable tool.

And then I’m shoved against the door again, and you’re shouting your frustration and fear into my face. And you’re right - of course you are. How can you plan carefully if you don’t have all information? How can you fully rely on me if I keep stuff from you?

And then - you look so panicked at the thought of me getting hurt - oh my kitten...

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, and you remove your hands from my chest.

“Jim... I’m sorry. I was afraid you’d worry needlessly. But... I shouldn’t have lied to you. You need to have as much information about the battlefield as possible, and it was wrong of me to keep it from you.

I assure you I feel fine - but do bring backup.”

And if anything does happen, get yourself to safety - but I don’t say that, because it’s just going to make you freak out more. I’m going to have to have a word with the backup bodyguard that you’re likely to panic if I get hurt and he may have to overpower you to get you out.

I risk lowering my arms, put them around you.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I won’t keep things from you again. I love you.”

 

 

_I move into your arms woodenly... staring straight ahead...my breath coming hard and fast._

_My breathing starts to slow..._

_The tension drains from my muscles..._

_I press my face into your chest._

_“I’m sorry.” It’s more of a sigh than words. But your arms tighten around me, so I think you heard it._

_“I can’t...” I shake my head quickly and inhale._

_“...lose you,” I exhale with a shudder._

 

 

For a long few moments I think I did the wrong thing - that you’re going to shove me away, or just stand there unmoved while I hug you, like some reluctant cat who’s been picked up against its will. But then you relax into me, sigh an apology, breathe that you can’t lose me - oh _Jim_...

“You’re not going to lose me. But Jim - we need you at your best today. So - don’t worry about me. I’m your soldier - I’m going to go in there and kill, destroy, and capture whoever you point at. But you need to be my genius, the one who knows what to do with absolute certainty. We need to both be on top form. So - let’s take a deep breath and have a coffee and get that car and go fucking kill some bastards.”

 

 

_"We still have 15 minutes. Shut up, I need this..." I say in a muffled voice._

_I sigh again and lean into you._

_"You don't have to shut up..."_

_(Pause)_

_"You can talk..."_

_(Longer pause)_

_"I don't know anymore... what's OK, what's not. It's like my entire system of navigation is cracked and broken... it's - disorienting._

_I'm pretty sure this is not OK - but *I don't want you to have them*._

_I have no right to ask, I think?_

_But - it's upsetting and I don't care and *I don't fucking want them here*._

_I can't control your mind… I don't actually want that, but I also kind of do._

_Not *really*, Tiger. I just want you to think only of me, is that so wrong?" I ask wistfully._

 

 

Don’t want me to have them? Have what?! You don’t want what?! I’m at a loss as to what you mean, but then you say you want me to think only of you, and-

“You’re _still_ on about those fucking magazines?! Jim - I never even looked at those after we got together, I’m sure! And - I _do_ only think of you! Have you been listening to _anything I said_ in the past days?! I lost my entire mind, know _nothing_ any more, not even my own _name_ , but I knew _you_ , knew that I am yours, that I love you, that I would give everything I have, everything I am, for you. Jim - how could you ever think I’d look at anyone else but you?

James Moriarty - you are the most beautiful, wondrous creature on god’s green earth, and I worship the ground you walk on. Just looking at you - just _thinking_ of you makes me want you so badly. I’m yours, and always will be, and if you want me to kill everyone else in the world to prove it, I will. But first -“

I turn, pick up the accursed publications, take them to the living room, throw them into the fireplace, and hold my lighter to them. Many toned, tanned, and tattooed bodies curl up into ashes.

“I swear to you I’ll never look upon another human being in lust again. And you already own my orgasms - you may not control my mind, but you fully control my sexuality. Is that acceptable to you, my beloved control freak?”

 

 

_I watch mesmerized as you go about throwing the hateful magazines in the fireplace, and setting them on fire. As they go up in flames, I'm transfixed by the beauty of it all... I hear your words, your vow, while watching the fire in utter bewitchment._

_Having this big, beautiful lethal soldier so utterly devoted to me, so willing to do what I want, even when I'm being unreasonable... (*especially* then, Sebastian) … the glow returns to my heart._

_(*There* it is... I *missed* that... huh.)_

_I reach up and take your hand. You stand and watch the fire with me, and it feels... significant._

_"Yes - it’s acceptable, Tiger..." I breathe, then look up at you. I find myself kissing you with abandon for what feels like forever, because when we stop... it's a new world. And I want to leave my mark on it right now. And then on you._

_"Kill them for me, Tiger..." I place my hand against your cheek, and share a murderous grin with you._

_"For *us*."_

 

 

This seems like a big deal to you. Jesus. There is no predicting you, is there? But I’m glad you calmed down, and then you kiss me passionately, and that is certainly most welcome. I’m a little short of breath when you stop - fuck, Jim, like I would have any space in my mind to think of others... you set me on _fire_ whenever you touch me.

But... yes. Killing. Oh yes, that’s what we’re doing. Kill the bastards who tried to hurt you through me. Oh, how their plan has backfired - we’re closer than before, and therefore stronger than before.

I pull you close, kiss your forehead, let you go. “Let’s get the fuckers.”

We go outside, each carrying a suitcase - I tried to pick up yours but you looked like you would bite my hand off if I dared. We get in the car, and you start looking serious - planning, I assume, and I leave you to it, look out the window at the unfamiliar landscape of London. It’s pretty. I think I must like it here.

 

 

_"So. They know what you look like. They may or may not know what *I* look like-" I muse. "But it won't be that hard to put together, if they were able to figure out where we live... or were told. Oh... maybe..."_

_I curse loudly, then glare out the window then look back to you._

_"I hate this idea... I really, really hate this idea. But you *could* meet them yourself and keep up the amnesia act... maybe bits and pieces of your long-term memory have come back- about your identity and working for me. But not about them or the deal or how any of this happened._

_If they ask about me, tell them I was a total arse about the memory loss and we had a falling out. If you act like you've had it with me, who knows - they may want to take you into *their* confidence. If not, they'll make their move and we'll move back. Hard and fast._

_I'd be in the back listening the whole time, Tiger... ready to move in and take them down._

_But if they want to get you involved and reveal the plan to you... possibilities start to open up and we're better prepared to decide what to do about this meeting tonight..."_

_I take your hand and look at you intently._

_"Sebastian... this will only work if you're up for it. Not just physically but mentally... tell me truthfully, now. If you're not feeling confident to be on your own, it's a terrible idea and it's not worth the risk to you. In that case, we'll just both be there together - there won't be any pretence and we'll just point blank ask them what they want._

_So tell me, Tiger... what do *you* want to do?"_

 

 

“It’s risky, but it’s the best way to find out what’s going on. And I’d hate to just kill them and never know. So yes, I’m up for it.

I woke up, don’t know shit, you come home, give me hell, I punch you, stomp out. Walked the streets until I remembered my way home to here. Got here, found an old Vodafone letter with my phone number, called it. Think you are a little shit who got me hurt and then gave me shit for it and left me to walk lost and sick around London for two days.

Sounds good.

So - you sure the place is clean? No one watching it? Then let’s do this,” I grin, happy to be finally _doing_ something.

The apartment is furnished sparsely but it could well be mine I suppose - film posters, bits of motorbike, bits of gun, empty and half-empty bottles, ashtrays filled with dog ends - for all I know this is how I lived before I was with you.

Some guys are already there, and we make plans. You and two others stay in the bedroom. A mobile phone connection is made, the phone hidden under the sofa. Your guys are in connection with others on rooftops, across the hall, on the street. I’ll be wearing my normal weapons, and will try to keep the visitors in line of sight for the sniper across the road.

You fret and fuss and it’s sweet but also driving me up the wall. I’m glad when you go to the loo, giving me a moment with your bodyguard.

“Look, mate, you’ll have spotted the boss is a bit worried about me. What’s important is - if there’s a risk - don’t let him try to be a hero, OK? There’s plenty of other guys in here who can do that. If there’s danger, get him out, regardless of what he says.”

The guy looks uncomfortable. “But we have to follow orders...”

 

I lean in very closely. “Your _orders_ are to keep the Boss safe. If _anything_ happens to Moriarty on your watch, the very same is going to happen to you, _and_ your family. Alright? Even if I won’t be around to take care of it - I’ve instructed my people.” Do I even have people? I don’t have a clue, but this lump seems to believe me - good.

He scuttles away as you make your way back from the loo. You open your mouth to ask something - damn your all-seeing eyes - when one of the guys speaks up. “They’re turning into the street. Positions, everyone.”

You move to the bedroom, I set myself on the sofa with the TV on some stupid quiz show and light a cigarette.

 

 

_In the bedroom, I try to keep from pacing - they haven’t even arrived yet. What were you talking to the bodyguard about? He looked nervous and you looked one moment deadly and threatening, and the next, ‘everything’s fine, Boss’... fuck, why didn’t I have time to interrogate you??_

_How much longer do I have to wait, how long has it been?? A minute and a half... fuck._

_I’m listening to the phone, hearing only a TV show and it’s sounding so abrasive, I’m gritting my teeth._

_How did I come up with this plan?? Terrible fucking idea..._

_After an eternity, I hear your text alert, a pause and your footsteps. Door swings open._

_Oh god, Tiger... please be okay..._

  


	11. Anti-fucking-Christ

I clear up the gun parts and weapons - if Sebastian Moran expects the people who return his phone to be a bunch of normal guys, he’d not receive them in an arms store. The TV is babbling inanely. It was a stupid idea to choose a quiz show. I know none of the fucking answers. Though I doubt I would have known the title of Nicki Minaj’s debut album even before my memory loss.

A text. They’re here. There is a doorbell, you knobheads.

I go to the front door, look through the spy hole - two guys, both armed, concealed. No one else around.

I open the door, put on the voice you used earlier. “Hello - do come in! Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea? A beer? I’m so glad you found my phone! I had an accident and I don’t quite remember what happened - I didn’t even remember where I lived! I walked around in a daze for so long before I remembered... oh sorry I’m babbling... do you have my phone?”

The guys exchange several looks through my soliloquy. The taller one says they’d like a beer, please, thank me very much, and hands me my phone.

I bundle them into the living room. I’ve covered the sofa with books, papers, and boots, so they have to sit on the chairs, well within range of the snipers. I go to the kitchen, grab three beers, hand them each a can, open mine.

“Cheers! To honest finders!”

They raise their cans to muttered “Cheers”, and I wonder what will happen next. Will they try to start something? They look rather nervous and not too smart... maybe I should.

“Can you believe my boyfriend had a go at me after he found out I’d had an accident?! He was all furious, saying I’d messed up - like it was _my_ fault! He even attacked me! Little psycho. Just let me walk out, no idea where I was heading... Good riddance to _him_ ,” I say, scowling.

The smaller guy looks hopeful at his friend. Ah?

 

 

_I listen tensely to the exchange. Boyfriend again... You just want to say that word to *everyone*, don’t you. Fuck, I want to storm in with a gun and rescue you, and nothing’s even happened yet..._

_“Boyfriend?” A voice asks- same guy from the phone call._

 

_“Well, he *was*... not anymore, obviously!” I hear you scoff. “Fucking arsehole...”_

_This makes me grit my teeth hard._

_“Arsehole,” the voice repeats in his New York accent._

_“I think it’s what they call assholes here,” a deeper voice interjects._

_I manage to keep from tittering into the phone. The tension is getting to me, and that is really, really not good for making sound judgment calls... get it together, Moriarty..._

_“And I worked for the fucker, too. So now I’m out of a job!” I hear you gripe._

_“Shit... What kind of work did you do for the guy?” The first voice asks._

 

_“Between you and me... it was a pretty shady business...” you say in a confiding tone. “I don’t remember much from the recent past, but I know that much...”_

_“Listen...” the first voice says, sounding very casual. “We can just give you the phone and go, but... I feel for you that the fucking guy screwed you over so bad... maybe we can help you out. We got business in town, too...”_

_“Oh - you’re not tourists?” you ask in a friendly tone. I cover the phone and scoff. One of my bodyguards looks at me questioningly and I shake my head._

 

 

God, they’re lapping it up, aren’t they? Can’t be the brightest stars in the organization then - probably some low grunts they got on phone duty. They’re all too easily tempted by the prospect of winning Moriarty’s right-hand man over to their side. Ugh, shine some gold in people’s eyes and they’ll believe any crap you feed them.

“See... actually, we are here to deal with a guy called Moriarty...”

“Moriarty, Moriarty... that name rings a bell - hold on! My boyfriend was called Moriarty!”

“Yes... well... I think it’s his guys that screwed you over, pal...”

“What?!” I look aghast.

“Thing is, we saw it happen...” the shortest one improvises as the taller one looks on in blatant fascination. “We were due to meet you, but saw you in a fight with some guys... they dragged you off in a car, and we found your phone, and... these...” He reaches into a pocket, takes out my dog tags. I have to hold myself back from snatching them out of his hands.

 

Instead I take them, slowly. “S P Moran... so - why did you think they were Moriarty’s guys?”

“We were due to meet you and some other of his guys - We didn’t see anyone else there, so we assumed...”

“So that’s why I woke up at his place! And the fucker had a go at me - when it’d been his own people! Little bastard! He attacked me! Then let me walk the streets for two days with no memory of where I was supposed to go! If I see that little fucker again, he’s fucking _dead_ ,” I growl.

 

 

_I'm shaking my head throughout. These guys are *idiots*, but you are as brilliant as ever... I would never have guessed in a million years you don't remember anything before two days ago._

_"Listen, buddy... I don't like to see a guy get screwed over like you were. And this Moriarty piss-ant sounds like a real piece of work..." the first voice continues. "I know he's got you all shaking in your boots like he's the anti-fucking-christ, or some shit - but back on the mean streets, we don't scare so easy. There's room in our organization for someone who can prove himself to be a real operator... if you decide you've had enough of being dicked around - you give us a call. Maybe we can help you with your little Moriarty problem... I mean, he's not just gonna forget about you and let you go, right?"_

_Oh - well played, idiots..._

_Sebastian... you're up..._

 

 

“You... reckon? I mean - yeah, he did seem quite nasty...” I’m going to puke if I have to keep the posh voice and slow wit act up for much longer. “And things are coming back to me - and god, yes, he is a bit of an unpleasant sort. I can’t believe I was with him - but like you say, we do seem to all be shaking in our boots - I don’t think I had much choice...” My eyes stray to one of the scars that’s obviously made by you - too neat to be a relic from a fight.

“If I... if I were to get involved with you... I’d need protection. _Good_ protection. This chap is dangerous.

But... in return... I think I might be able to help you with some valuable information. My memory is getting better and better, and I recall more and more...

Are you looking to take him out? For good?”

I make it sound like I’m terrified and want you to disappear from the face of the earth.

 

 

_There’s a pause, where I realize I’m actually holding my breath._

_“It’s like this,” the voice says carefully. “for the right information, we could offer you protection and probably get you what you need to sleep through the night... know what I mean, buddy? You got any information now, I could make a quick call, see what we can do for you? You remember there’s a meeting tonight? We could take care of things for you then, maybe... know what I mean, pal?”_

_*Yes*, a five-year-old would *know what you mean*, you imbecile..._

_Come on, Sebastian... get us what we need so we can get out and deal with this meeting. One way or another..._

 

 

“I don’t know... he’s very dangerous. You guys don’t know him like I do... he’s bound to turn up to this meeting with lots of extra security in tow, bodyguards, snipers on the roofs, that kind of thing... I mean, lots of people have tried to get rid of him. No one’s succeeded so far... he’s scarily smart.”

Come on, convince me...

“Oh, don’t worry, buddy,” _I’m not your fucking buddy, pal..._ “we’ve got it all worked out. No one’s going to so much as look at him the wrong way. The whole thing is going to go smooth, he’ll leave happy and healthy, and die peacefully in his sleep. Meanwhile we have set all the gears moving to take over. We got one of his drivers helping us - very useful.”

The shorter guy is looking dubiously at his colleague, not sure if he’s supposed to reveal all this, but he looks relieved when I nod thoughtfully. “That seems like a great idea... I’ll breathe much easier when he’s gone... he’s done some things... never mind, but he’s a nasty piece of work. So - do you think you could - take me somewhere tonight? Or do you need to be at the meeting? I’d - hate to be left alone - I’m sorry, I’m not usually so weak -“

“Nah, we’re not important enough for the meeting. Why don’t we take you somewhere comfortable and when you wake up, you’ll never have to worry about Moriarty again... “

“I look forward to it,” I say in my normal voice. The shorter one realizes something is wrong and reaches under his jacket, but I’ve got him on the floor with my own gun against his head before he can even touch his. One of our guys - their names are a bit of a blur at the moment - has jumped out of the closet and is holding a gun pointed at the taller guy. I disarm them both, check - only the one gun each, and call to the bedroom. “Darling? Would you like to have a word with our guests?”

 

 

_I'm slowly moving into the hall the moment I hear your real voice... I can feel you springing into action without even seeing what's happening. So when I hear you call me in, I'm already suddenly appearing in the living room - which spooks the two New Yorkers, especially when they see my face._

_"Just *one* word, darling? I rather liked 'anti-fucking-christ'..." I muse as I stalk into the room. “D’you mind if I take that? I’d like to have it on my business card.”_

_"Who the hell are you?" the shorter one demands, trying to sound blustery._

_"Well, I know I don't have you shaking in your boots, but... surely you can hazard a guess?" I widen my eyes comically, but they just stare at me dumbfounded. I look back at them, perplexed. "No? Not even one?"_

_I turn to you. "I don't understand it, Sebbie- I've all but given them my calling card, what more do I have to do??" I slide my arms around your neck and kiss your lips._

_"Make them say it for me, darling..." I say in a silky voice, and give them a mad grin._

 

 

Oh wow. Is this what you’re like on the job? No wonder I fell for you - you’re _breathtaking_. Your eyes gleam with destruction and storm, your mouth looks like it should have fangs - you are the god of death, but not the morose Hades (oh, I do remember the Greek gods do I? Useful!), but one that relishes the pain, fear, and suffering, that will devour the souls of the dead in glee.

I beam at you: “My pleasure, my love...”, and turn to the men, who are looking rather pale now.

We have some time before the meeting, but I don’t know how long you’ll need to prepare. Still, half an hour is a very long time when you’re in agony. And these guys don’t look too brave.

“Tie them to the chairs,” I nod to our men, who start doing so with practised ease.

“Mr Moriarty, look - we have information, we can be of use-“, tall guy says.

“Oh look, Sebbie - they got it!” you beam. I scowl at them - I’d been more thinking of having them scream it. Oh well, there’s still time.

“Good. Now, I can see that you’re shaking in your boots, so please remove them,” I nod to our guys - I’m sorry guys, I swear I will learn your names again, but it’s been a hectic few days.

One of them hands me my bag of tools. Clever chap. Oh god no, I’m _not_ going to think in that voice now, am I? Concentrate, Moran!

“Now, do please give us all that interesting information you have, and we may send you on a nice plane somewhere. You were after all very sweet to me... If not...”

I let the bag fall open. I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with half this stuff, but I look forward to finding out.

“See, you guys are absolute idiots, which is probably why you were on phone duty. I’m going to need some help deciding on the biggest mistake you made...” I lean closer. “Is it thinking that Mr Moriarty is not aware of everything that happens in London? Or - and I think it may be this one - thinking that Sebastian Moran would ever be anything but absolutely and completely devoted to James Moriarty?”

Yeah yeah, I’m using hostages to solve my relationship problems. Desperate times.

“See, chaps... that guy there... he’s not a man. He’s a god. All-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful. Us here - we’re not shaking in our boots. We’re on our knees worshipping.

And I’m the motherfucking high priest.”

 

 

_My God, look at that... it's all coming back to you..._

_it's amazing to watch you in action, when you barely know who you are - except that you're mine._

_You are getting so fucking lucky tonight, Sebastian Moran..._

 

_I walk up to the unfortunate men, tied in chairs. They start leaning back away from me like I'm some kind of demon approaching them._

_"Oh relax, darlings... I'm not going to burn the flesh from your bones just by talking to you. *Sebastian* might, but he'd probably use a blow torch. Is that what you'd use, darling? Blow torch?" I keep smiling at the men, who are starting to panic._

_"Blow torch," you confirm._

_"So you see, it's in your interest to just tell us everything you know... right away, my dears! No playing shy or my high priest will have to provide a nice sacrifice for me... and carve up a couple of sweet lambs for my altar. And I do enjoy watching my sacrifices bleed and cry and burn - it makes me feel *so* adored I could just scream! But we have that other appointment to get to... and I *hate* to be late."_

_I lunge towards the face of the smaller one and stare at him from a few inches away. He stares back in terror and I smile sweetly. "What is the name of the driver who told you about me...? You can whisper it in my ear, if you like..."_

 

 

“I don’t know!! I wasn’t involved in that - we were just supposed to take care of Moran-“

I see you stiffen at that. Not quite yet, my murderous love... I step in.

“See I would love to believe you, and I do, I do, you would never lie to Mr Moriarty, I know... but I carried all this stuff over and it would be such a shame not to use it...” I start rummaging through my bag, hold up a few items wondering what they’re for - the guys seem to know because they’re cringing. It’s probably not good form to ask them though.

“Look, it’s no problem for me - I love using my skills. But it’s all going to be a lot faster if you just tell us now and you can be on your way...” Ah, pliers. I understand those.

“I don’t _know_! I swear! I’ve seen him though - he took us to your place-“

“... oh?” Interesting... you’re leaning closer.

“Look, I’m - I’ll tell you all I know and then you’ll let us go, right? We’ll disappear - no one will ever hear a thing from us - I have family in Tanzania - it’ll be like we never existed...”

“We might, we might...” I purr. “But you better make it interesting...”

“Okay, so... we were meeting you. Sam distracted you, and - our colleague got you with a dose of amnestic. You fought like a lion, but we got you. Knocked you out. We took your phone and your dog tags, drove you back to Moriarty’s place. The idea was to confuse him, throw him off his game - create some chaos in the ranks as Moran was being rogue - then pin Moriarty’s death on him, and take over.”

 

 

_"And who pray tell was ready to take over? Surely not you, my dears... you're cute as *buttons*, but you're not all that bright. Someone's been pulling your strings, and I'd like to know who... or Sebastian will be pulling toes, fingers, or whatever else I feel like collecting from you today. I was thinking of making a nice soup for my poor, sweet boyfriend who hasn't been feeling well... and it's always better with a few juicy bones..."_

_I caress the ear of the shorter man and he jerks back. "Why don't you tell me the name of your puppetmaster... and everyone who was involved in this plan... and we'll see about you going free. You could be on a plane to Tanzania by tonight... or... *most* of you will be kept alive for days of questioning... and the rest of you will be soup."_

_The short man is looking paralyzed with fear._

_"Don't you *like* soup? It's so comforting when you're feeling under the weather, isn't it? Poor Sebastian hasn't been himself ever since someone got their hands on him and drugged him. Who told you to do this to him?" I ask in a dangerously quiet voice and caress his face._

 

 

Boyfriend? I smirk internally.

“You know, darling, in Afghanistan bull’s testicles are seen as a delicacy... I haven’t had any in a long time... oh, that’s making me salivate...”

“Mr McGinty... Sir...” the taller guy supplies. The name means nothing to me, but you scowl.

“He’s been looking to get into London... taking over... he’s got a guy lined up - also called Moriarty, but that might be a false name... “

You scowl even further at that.

I think we have what we need - just a few more questions...

“This amnestic - how long does it last?”

He’s looking at his feet. I do not like that. I plant the heel of my boot on his toes, breaking a few. He screams. “How. Long.”

“We don’t know,” the other guy supplies. “It’s still in an experimental stage - at least a week, but after that - varying results.”

“How varying?” you growl.

“The guy who recovered fastest was mostly alright after a week. One guy, a month. Another got some back but not all. Another... nothing still after four months. It’s very erratic - I’m sorry...”

“Lastly - describe the driver.” I’m trying not to let myself sink into despair at that. Later.

“Short black hair, small beard - dark complexion, accent - sounded Hispanic to me. Small scar under his right eye.”

You nod. “Ok, I know enough.”

We look at each other. I’m your hands, but this is personal. You’ve been dying to get your hands on the guys who hurt me for days.

“Would you like the honour, my darling?” I smile at you.

 

 

_I can't smile back. I'm furious. An employee sold me out... some New Yorker is trying to take over my city using *my name*... and they don't know if your memory will come back??_

_"You know what makes me sad about all this?" I ask, looking at the smaller man. "What makes me so - very - sad? Do you?"_

_The smaller man looks confused and petrified, and you lean in. "Answer him," you say, helpfully._

_"N-no, Mr Moriarty..." he mumbles._

_"What makes me so very, very sad... is that I just don't have time to do everything I'd like to you. Your employer will certainly feel my displeasure about plotting against me... but *you* are the ones who *touched* Sebastian..." I lightly place my hands against his face, and he jumps back._

_"You gave him an experimental drug..."_

_My fingers tighten on his face._

_"You messed up his mind..."_

_Claws dig into face..._

_"*And* you were going to frame him for my death?"_

_I *tsk* at him, remove my fingers from his face, and pat his cheek sharply._

_"Well, I'm simply beside myself that I can't torture you for as long as I'd like... but we did *say* we'd let you go..."_

 

_"Oh... thank you, Mr Moriarty, sir... thank you..." he whimpers, straining at his ropes._

_"I just need to mess up your mind a little first," I purr, and shove a knife into his eye._

 

 

I lean back. These ones are yours, babe. And I can't say I'm not falling ever deeper in love when looking at how you destroy them.

I must be insane - oh well, you did say I was. But - I know with every fibre of my being I'm yours. And there are so many sides to you - and I'm loving discovering them. The sweet, caring side, that insists on blankets and tea, is _adorable_. The devious sadistic side, the one who wields the whip so expertly - gah. Just thinking about him makes me weak at the knees. The lost side, the one who's terrified and mystified at this new love thing - he makes my heart swell and my eyes go damp.

But this side - this side is new, and I'm in _awe_. No wonder you are running an Empire. No wonder you have all of London 'shaking in their boots'. This - you - fuck, _I_ am terrified of you, and I'm on your side. You just ooze raw power, menace, destruction, intensity... I want to both cower in a corner - preferably a corner in another room, in another building, in another city - and fall to my knees in absolute worship. You are the most awesome thing I've ever seen - in the true meaning of awe-inspiring.

If I didn't understand my feelings before, I do now - you are the most formidable, sublime creature in existence - truly the devil in barely human form, the Prince of Darkness, and I've not just given you my soul but thrown my heart, mind, and body in with the deal, and all I want in return is to bask in the darkness of your presence.

 

 

_"Obviously a longer knife would have been better" I say, jostling the handle. "But we make the most of what we have in the moment..." I remove my hands and step back to peruse my work. "Not bad, but it lacks- hmm..."_

_Another knife._

_Another eye._

_I step back again._

_"That's it - there's nothing like symmetry, is there!" I exclaim and lean in towards the not-moving man in front of me. "So tell me - did it mess with your head?"_

_I turn to look at the other taller man, who's watching with horror._

_"I don't think he made it," I confide and step over to him._

_"P-please- I won't tell anyone-"_

_"Well, lucky for you I'm fresh out of knives..." I say, press a gun to his left eye and shoot, then repeat with the other eye._

_I look at the two bodies and cover my face with my hand. "Lobotomy!!" I shout in anguish. "*That's* what I should have done! *Vengeance lobotomies*, how this will *haunt* me!! Boys, you'll see this is all cleaned up, won't you... Sebastian? Come into the bedroom for a moment..." I turn and walk away. I hear your footsteps behind me. When I reach the bedroom, I turn and throw myself at you._

_"You did beautifully, darling..." I say, covering your face with kisses. "Your instincts are just- fucking beautiful. I love you, Tiger..." I pull you close and kiss you hungrily._

 

 

Well, you didn't spend as long on the guys as I would have done - but what you did was a beautiful cadenza of cruelty and revenge. My beloved Avenging Angel...

I'm half dizzy with love for you, and your hungry kiss just fans the flame that's constantly burning. I grasp you close, kiss you back, pull you onto the bed - I know how we can use that spare time...

Our hands are all over each other, pulling clothes out of the way, mouths reaching for each other, roughly - you bash against my lip and I feel my tooth piercing it, making you growl when you taste the blood, biting my bottom lip to get more, scratching your nails down my chest; and I laugh with exulted giddiness, pull you on top of me, our cocks rubbing together, holding you as close as I can - "You are magnificent, my love..."

 

 

_"*We* are magnificent," I gasp, grinding against you hard. "And I fucking *want you*."_

_I'm pulling lube from my jacket pocket... positioning myself... pressing into you hard... and within moments we're fucking like animals, a frenzy of growling, biting and ferocious thrusting. I'm leaning in to kiss you madly, pulling at the small wound in your lip with my teeth. I tongue your now-bleeding lip, and make a purring sound in my throat. You shove your hips against me hard._

_"Fuck... Sebastian..." I groan, and thrust into you again and again and again._

 

 

You brought lube to an interrogation. Oh, you absolute legend.

And then you're inside me and it hurts a bit, but it hurts _so good_. I adore how you just _take_ me, no niceties - of _course_ I'm ready for you, I was born ready for you, I want you to take me when you want, always - you are my god, I just said - I may have been less metaphorical than I thought.

It's rough, it's dirty, it's hard and fast and it's fucking _spectacular_. I really hope this is something we do all the time. I'm afraid I'm leaving bruises and scrapes on your skin - it's impossible not to, you're a wild animal and I'm responding in kind. Of course - if the devil fucks a tiger, some blood is going to flow...

 

 

_Oh god, this is unbelievably hot. I hope the men have cleared out to give us some privacy, but then I can't help not caring._

_I grab your cock and start wanking you. Your loud groaning and bestial grunting is the fucking hottest thing..._

_Burying myself in your arse over and over is the hottest thing..._

_Staring into your eyes while we fuck is the hottest thing..._

_And I've so overcome by the hotness of it all, I start to tumble into orgasm - determined to take you with me, I stroke you harder._

_"Oh god... Sebastian... *god*…"_

 

 

Yes, you are my god, Jim... You and your dark cruel eyes, your voice which can encompass so many identities and emotions, most of which send my heart racing and make my knees weak and cock hard... God Jim, Jim, _Jim_...

And you're moaning _my_ name, which is unbelievable - the whole world is yours, and you want _me_. You _love_ me. _You_ , the Prince of Darkness himself, the man who has London on its knees. I've seen you these past few days - but today I have seen YOU, the you out in the world, the one who commands, plots, kills, and it's superb.

Your cock pounds away inside me, your hand is moving _just right_ , and then you come inside me, and I make a sound that is caught between a groan and a keen, and I moan your name when my own seed _shoots_ over my chest, all the way to my chin... " _JIM_..."

That one syllable, the most beautiful sound in the world, my passion, my love, my devotion, all expressed in the small short word...

 

 

_Panting, I fall against your thighs pressed against my chest. I pull out of you and try to lift myself off your thighs. Failing, I fall back and laugh. I push off against your muscular chest, and fall to the bed next to you._

_"That was... *god*, Sebastian. There's nothing like a kill to make us want to get down and dirty, but that was a *spectacular* fuck, darling..." I lean over and kiss you. "Oh. Quite a mess." I reach over to the nightstand, grab some tissues and start to clean you off._

_"What do you think of the fake apartment? I based it on your old place, if it rings any bells. I oversaw the set decoration myself. We couldn't use your actual place, due to the explosion..."_

 

 

“... do I want to know about the explosion?” I ask.

“It looks nice. Functional, messy, the place of someone who doesn’t care much about ‘home’, but rather finds it handy to have a place to keep his bed and weapons dry. Is that what I was like?”

 

 

_"Well, you didn't exactly put any effort into giving the place any sense of style. It was extremely functional. And definitely not military-grade tidiness or cleanliness, former Commander Moran... it was more of a fuck pad with a lot of weapons. And after we started shagging, you *hardly* needed a fuck pad anymore. The explosion, hmm... one of life's little unsolved mysteries. Secret enemy? Jilted lover from your past? You never looked for a new place, just stayed at mine and never left." I smile with satisfaction at the ceiling. "Didn't even ask if I was OK with that! The nerve of some people..."_

 

 

"... you blew up my place to get me to stay at yours instead of simply admitting you _loved_ me!?" I laugh. "You absolute bellend!"

 

 

_“Who said anything about *me* blowing up your place?? Did you *hear* me say that?” I look over at you in mock indignation. “That’s quite a conclusion to leap to, Sebastian Moran...”_

 

 

"Oh, let's say that I'm good at reading between the lines... Don't tell me I bought that for _one_ second, please."

 

 

_“You know, you didn’t say much about it at the time! I think we both just agreed it was a most confounding mystery...“ I look at you, blinking innocently._

 

 

"I'm sure we did..." I laugh, grabbing you close. "You're impossible, you know that? Impossible to resist as well, fortunately..."

Suddenly serious. "So that fucking drug... I'd like to find out more about that, if possible... Have you ever heard of anything like that?"

 

 

_“That fucking drug... *yes*, it’s definitely something I’m going to be obsessing about ... until we get this resolved, which we *will*. You know, I heard some rumblings about drugs that would cause short-term memory loss... kind of next-level roofies, useful for spies, governments, criminal masterminds... but I didn’t know they were developing something so all-encompassing... it’s fascinating, but *not* when it’s being used on my fucking second-in-command...” I grit my teeth. “I’m obsessing about something else now. The meeting with the unfortunate souls who planned all this... hmm, what *shall* we do them...”_

 

 

"I can think of _many_ things, and I'd love to see you deal with them, but as your chief of security, I'd advise to blow the fucking place to hell without showing up ourselves."

I look at your face, sigh. "Yeah, I didn't think so...

Well, if they think that I'm being rogue, maybe I shouldn't be visible when we get in - they likely have different scenarios depending on what happened with me. Now the phone guys likely let them know I was confused and somewhere off on my own, so if I turn up with you they'll be suspicious. However, I'm _not_ happy with you going in without me. You saw I'm still fast, and I don't trust anyone else. Do you have something like a disguise? Dye my hair black, put on a false moustache, something like that? My size won't give me away - you've got many burly big guys; I won't stand out."

 

 

_“Look who you’re asking... It'll be taken care of, but with temporary dye - I like your hair way too much to mess it up for these wankers. And I need to find out who this Mr McGinty is... and if it’s just him trying to fuck me, or the entire New York lot. Shall we?” I sit up, clean myself off and get my clothes back in order._

_“Blow the fucking place to hell? And you were giving *me* a hard time about acting impulsively without all the information. You’re sexy when you’re homicidal, Tiger...” I pull you by your dog tags into a crushing kiss._

 

 

Ah, that's what those were for... I grin when I feel you pull me close by my dog tags. It does feel good to have them back, like some part of me has been restored.

"I don't act impulsively without all information. We know that they've been looking to take over, they got some fucker with your name ready to take your place, they've given me experimental fucking drugs to unsettle you - all more than enough reason to blow them to kingdom come. I do approve of the more subtle approach only because it will mean we get to extract more information and make their death slower and more... personal."

Seeing your eyes light up as you're getting your revenge on people who have wronged you in the most gruesome way... that's something I definitely wouldn't mind seeing more of...

 

 

_“Well then... if you approve of the subtle approach, my darling head of security... I’m all for it. *Somehow* you’ve convinced me to give this situation a personal touch. Explosives are pretty and nice, but they just don’t have the same sense of *engagement*... And we do want to be engaging, don’t we...” I hop onto the floor. “Besides, if someone is going by my name, I want to meet the gentleman face to face. I’m worried he’s doing me all wrong, and I’ll want to share some pointers...”_

 

 

I can't help but laugh at that. "Oh, I can't _imagine_ what they were thinking setting someone up to imitate you... Like _anyone_ could ever come close...

Yeah, let's get going and get started on preparations... how long have we got?"

 

 

_"The meeting was for 10pm... nice and dark out, like we criminal types enjoy. So we have quite a few hours. Enough time to make our plans, *and* get you some dinner. You need to keep your strength up, my dear..." I run my hand along your chest. "Because if we got excited after taking out a couple of lower-level idiots... imagine how we'll get after wiping out a room full of crime bosses..."_

 

 

"I can't wait..." I purr. "Right - do you have like a... beautician or something who takes care of disguises? Or do you do so? You might look suspicious with black dye on your fingers...

And yes, now you mention dinner, I am quite hungry. If only we lived in a place with some decent restaurants... You say what you fancy, I don't remember."

 

 

_I laugh. "A *beautician*? Oh, you manly man... I have a stylist on call for hair and make-up. The rest I should be able to manage. You might say I have a certain flair when it comes to disguises..." I steer you towards the door. "I'm definitely feeling a Thai food vibe... mmm, I'm craving deep-fried bananas with coconut ice cream... Oh, after a good kill, we like to fuck and then eat. And then fuck again."_

 

 

"Well, we did the first fuck, let's eat and fuck again," I grin. "We may have the stylist do their work while we're doing it, or we might run out of time..."

We have a shower and dress. There's blood and... stuff on our clothes, so we order food delivered to one of your other apartments rather than going to a restaurant. When we're nearly finished, your stylist shows up. She shows herself to be much more than a simple hairdresser - she dyes my hair, including my eyebrows, lashes, and goatee, darkens my visible skin so that I look Mediterranean, even hides the scar on my left hand. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.

 

 

_"Amazing work..." I say, observing you closely. "And I can't wait until you're you again."_

_I thank the stylist, and send her on her way. You look amazed at the resources I have at my beck and call - poor, sweet Tiger... you really have no idea. I will make sure you get your memory back if I have to threaten every neurologist and drug-developer and anyone else I can think of, to do it._

_"I'm going to see what I can find out about McGinty. Why don't you relax a bit... I won't be long." I kiss you and retreat to the sofa with my laptop._

 

 

 

Relax a bit. How do I relax, Mr Moriarty? I have found one way, so far, and that is a bit hard when you're working away on your laptop. I have a fag, but that only takes five minutes. Ugh.

I take out my perfectly clean guns and clean them again. I check in the mirror for anything your stylist might have missed - nothing. I find a game on my phone that involves connecting dots, which keeps me occupied for another five minutes. I have another fag.

You're not moving. How do we usually survive this kind of endless wait?

 

 

_"Your boredom is deafening, Tiger..." I say, not looking up from my laptop. "Usually you work out before a job. At home you have a workout room - I didn't want to encourage you while you were still recovering. But we don't have any equipment here... I suppose there are things you could still do - sit-ups, push-ups, martial arts training. Shirtless, so you don't overheat. And videotape it so I can watch it later and assess your form," I deadpan, my eyes flicking over you and returning to my screen._

 

 

"You sure that won't distract you?" I grin. "It's a good idea, but I probably shouldn't get all sweaty with the make-up on, even though she says it's waterproof. Don't worry - I'll do a full workout for you tomorrow, and you'll get to see it live. Even better than on video."

I plunk onto the sofa next to you. "Any information?"

 

 

_"Our friend Connor McGinty is a high-level player in the Irish mob in New York. He's got blood ties to one of the crime families in Dublin. It looks like this is a power play for him... if he can take over London, and bring it to his organization... it would be quite a score for him, and would position him as a contender to head the Mob._

_It's just not clear to me if any of the other players at the meeting are involved... if they are, we take them all down. If they're not... we need to separate McGinty... and his stand-in Moriarty._

_Our little friends did say nothing was going to happen at the meeting, and they were going to make their move on me after. I suspect McGinty won't get the chance..."_

 

 

“I worry that something _is_ going to happen in the meeting - like they’ll somehow give you a slow-acting poison. I mean, if they were going to kill you in your apartment, they wouldn’t have shown the fact that they can get in by bringing me there. That was a very bold move, so they should be rather confident that they can take you out without actually touching you outside of the meeting.”

 

 

_"Yes... good point, Tiger. So we don't give them the chance to touch me. Maybe we should pick up McGinty and the faux Moriarty *before* the meeting. Take care of them, then drop in on the meeting and let them know something terrible happened. If they're upset about *that*, we take them out. If they don't care, we proceed as planned."_

_My fingers have been tapping keys to find the location of McGinty, but suddenly they pause over the keyboard as I stare off into space._

_*Dublin... crime families... Moriarty... fuck.*_

_I cover my face with my hands. "Motherfucking... *cunt*..."_

_"What's going on, Jim?" you ask, perplexed._

_I lower my hands, glowering. "Oh, just a small complication... it may not be a fake Moriarty, after all... Prepare yourself, darling. This is going to get unpleasant..."_

 

 

I'm not going to let anyone get close enough to touch you, in that meeting. No handshakes. No sitting on a chair. No one within five feet of you. You don't come in until I say. Three bodyguards around you at all times, me to your right.

You interrupt my thinking with a rare expletive.

What?! A real Moriarty? Surely the world can't handle _two_ Moriartys?

"You're kidding?! A relative? And - from the look on your face, not your favourite one?"

 

 

_I sigh heavily, glaring my fury at the room. “I don’t know which not-favourite one it is, but a few spring to mind. I haven’t seen them in an age, but I do keep tabs on them. And a handful of them are criminals of the pettiest variety. Huh. Isn’t this an unexpected-“_

_*Crash*_

_Your eyes follow the decorative bowl from the coffee table flying across the room and hitting the wall._

_“-completely motherfucking-“_

_*Crash*_

_You watch as the coffee table follows._

_“-ridiculous-“_

_You get up and hold onto my arms as I start moving towards a side table._

_“What?” I ask you, perplexed._

_“Why don’t we take a breather, and then we can figure out what to do about this...” you suggest soothingly._

_*Crash*_

_You look at me as I return to the couch after tossing the side-table clear into the hallway._

_“There. Figure out what to do? We’ll have our family reunion and then he dies. Simple. Elegant. Something to write home about when it’s time to send my Christmas cards. So - I know where McGinty is staying. Shall we go fetch him?”_

 

 

I could argue, but something tells me that I'd be flying out the window next. You're on _fire_ and you need something to burn.

"Get some other guys, too. Let us go in and fetch him. You wait and we'll bring him to you."

"You're not going in without me. No fucking way."

"... that's my line. I'm the bodyguard, remember?" I try, but you're looking at me with the most stubborn look on your face, and I don't need to know you to know that this is not a mood in which I can win an argument.

"OK. We'll go in together. Can you put something on that makes you look less like James Moriarty walking into the hotel?"

 

 

_"But darling... if I'm going to be seeing family, I'll want to look *nice*," I say, my jaw hardening._

_"And I didn't bring my entire wardrobe with me, you know..." I mutter, and head to the bedroom._

_Moments later, I emerge wearing a black leather coat, white v-neck t-shirt, dark jeans, and a charcoal tweed flat cap._

_"There - this is probably how the unknown Moriarty normally dresses, and he'll probably be in a fancy suit tonight. So the irony runneth over and I hope it's appreciated. Let's *go*."_

 

 

I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt, put on a shirt over the top to hide the gun in my waistband. Is it appropriate to think that you look incredibly hot in jeans and a tight shirt? Probably yes, but not to mention it. You don't look in the mood to hear my appreciation of your sartorial choices.

I have three guns, two knives, and a fucking temper. Let's do this.

 

 

_The ride over is tense. My mind is full of dark shadows, twisting hallways with dusty cobwebs... I don't want this. I want it to be over._

_We arrive at the hotel and I turn to you. "Muscle's in the car ahead. So, as discussed - we knock. He answers. We deal with whatever's inside. But McGinty stays alive until I'm ready for him not to be. The Other Moriarty, too. And we'll inject them with sedatives and do our helping out a drunk friend routine to get him out of the hotel.” I look down at my phone. “Security cameras about to be disabled. Diversion in the lobby on standby. Are you ready, Sebastian?"_

 

 

I check: sedatives in my pocket ready to be extracted and used. Guns and knives not visible but in easy reach. Adrenaline pumping through the system, protection mode fully engaged - I’ll kill anyone who so much as _looks_ at you and will ask questions later.

“Ready, Boss.”

‘Be careful,’ I want to say. ‘I love you,’ I want to say. I don’t. I mustn’t distract you. I must simply make sure that you won’t have to be careful and that I get the chance to tell you I love you over and over when this is done.

We walk in.

 

 

_We go past the front desk towards the elevators. My three men head in the same direction, and go up first in one elevator. I wait with you for the next one, amidst a group of posh gentlemen in suits, discussing economics in the dullest, snootiest way imaginable. You are directly staring at them and sneering._

_Oh god... you and your hatred for lordly ways. I nudge you, and you shake your head in disgust._

_I cross my eyes at you and give you a mad grin. The gentlemen look at you with indignation as you laugh loudly._

_I know I should be completely focused on what we'll find on the twelfth floor... but... it's just too irresistible._

_"Poppet... I asked you *not* to drink too much tonight of all nights. And you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" I say loudly, and the lordly conversation grinds to a halt._

_I cross my arms and look away from you. "But did you have to flirt with the waiter? On our anniversary - how could you!"_

 

 

Oh you little shit - you love playing roles so much, should have become an actor...

"Oggommon honey - ah zinnut have _dat_ much..." I slur. "Annah _dizzent_ flirt widda waiter - ah wuz jus bein' _friendly!_ Ah'm juzza friendly guy! You _know_ ah _looooove_ you... and only _you..._ "

I point my index finger in your general direction, and start singing.

"Oooonly _yoooooouuuuuu_... can _make_ ahzzis _world_ seem bright... Oh-honly yoo-hoo-hoooo... cammake... de _dark_ ness bright..."

The suits start moving backwards. I don't blame them - I'm not a world-class singer even when I am trying my best.

"Only _yooou_ , and you ahalone... Cahhaaaan thrill me like you doooo..."

_Ding_

The lift has arrived, and I grab you, drag you in there.

"An _fillll_ my heart with _loooooove_ , for onlihy yoooohooooou..."

The suits decide they'll take the next lift. The doors close.

 

 

_I fall against the wall, laughing. “Oh well *done*, Tiger... we should use your singing on the job more often.”_

_I pull you into a kiss, and we end up making out hot and heavy all the way up to the twelfth floor. When I hear the bell ring, I pull back from you and blink._

_We stand in the elevator staring hard at each other, barely breathing._

_“No reckless stunts, Tiger...” I say quietly. “You be safe, too.”_

_The bell dings again and I flinch._

_“Promise me...”_

 

 

"I promise, Boss..." I say in a hoarse voice. "I don't want to risk not being able to finish that kiss..."

We look at each other and if it weren't highly inappropriate timing I think you'd have jumped me right here in the lift. But the muscle is down the hall and we don't want to give people time to notice that the security cameras are out.

I take a deep breath - focus, soldier - scan the hallway - nothing out of the ordinary - and we walk out of the lift, me first, my hand on my gun. When we're at McGinty's door, I crouch down. You knock. I put my ear against the door.

 

 

_I hear the muffled sounds of a TV. Well, it doesn't *sound* like a roomful of guys with guns, but you never know. I remove my cap._

_A moment later there's an eye at the peephole._

_"Who is it?" A voice with a New York accent says._

_"Hotel security, sir." I say gruffly, with a British accent._

 

_There's a pause. "Hotel security? Is there a problem?"_

_"There was an incident on this floor a little while ago... someone got shot. A gentleman whose room was paid for by your credit card - a Mr Moriarty?"_

_"WHAT?" The door opens slightly. "Moriarty was *shot*? Is he fucking *dead*?"_

_"Oh, no... he's been taken to the hospital, but his wounds are critical. Unfortunately, the people who did it got away- and we have no idea if they're still in the hotel. I can't say if they mean you any harm, but we don't recommend you stay in this room since it's in the system that you're here. We have a room on another floor for you, and we can put it under another name, so you'll be safe."_

_"Fuck. I gotta make a call." He goes to close the door._

_I slide my foot in the doorway. "Sir - I must recommend that you come with me right now, or we can't guarantee your safety. Your things will be collected by security and brought to you."_

_"Yeah, OK - there's just something I gotta-" he turns to go into the room, and suddenly you're in motion - grabbing him and injecting him in the back of the neck._

_"Heyyy- who arrre you guyz?" he protests drunkenly and slumps into your arms. One of my men sidles through the door, and slides McGinty's arm around his shoulder. He nods and walks down the hall with him towards the lift, McGinty laughing all the way._

_I turn to you, smiling grimly. "The other Moriarty's room is next. He likely won't believe I'm hotel security..." I pop the cap back on my head. "I may need to improvise..."_

 

 

 

I put the cap back on the emptied syringe, shove it in my pocket.

"I can pretend to be hotel security... I don't really look the part, but neither do you. And I can do the accent," I grin.

 

 

_"I can *do* the accent," I say in a huffy tone. "I've carried off the accent before, *darling*. But then, I do love hearing you do it, Tiger - so have at it," I grin at you, then crouch against the wall._

 

 

"I didn't say you couldn't do the accent! You do it marvellously."

I knock, you put your ear against the door.

"Yes?" A voice comes from inside.

"Hotel security, Sir!" I say, toning down my accent to a bit more working-class than usual.

"What do you want?!" An Irish accent. Also, slightly less friendly than McGinty. And he's not come to the door yet.

"Could I have a word with you, Sir? Would you mind opening the door?"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something - can it wait?"

"I'm afraid it's a matter of urgency and a bit - delicate, Sir?"

I hear muttered grumbles and some stirring in the room. You listen, frowning.

 

 

_I'm shaking my head and gritting my teeth. Cillian. Big surprise. Haven't seen him since I was twelve, but he was a dick even then..._

_I look up at you, and raise my gun. My two men in the hallway raise theirs on the other side of the door._

 

 

You’re raising your gun but aren’t motioning for me to move, so I wait. The peephole is obscured.

“Yeah, what?”

“Please open the door, Sir? I don’t want to disturb the other guests...”

A grumble, but the lock is moving. I ready the syringe.

“Alright, what’s...” I push in, grab his hair, drive the syringe into his neck, plunge. He folds, one of the men catches him, takes him under his arm.

 

 

_I stare at my cousin as he collapses against one of my men. I'd like to punch him right now, but violence will have to wait._

_"Get this shite into the car. Let's *go*," I snap and storm down the hall._

 

 

You're stomping down the hall. Now is probably not the time to ask who this Moriarty is, but it's clear that you know him. He does look a bit like you if you squint and don't look too closely - they weren't going to _actually_ pass him off as you, were they? No - they were going to frame me for your murder. So - a brother, or cousin? The rightful heir to your Empire, ready to shine in a moment when people are confused and looking for a leader, after the Boss and his second have passed away?

I'm looking forward to interrogating these guys. I hope we won't have to rush it this time...

Our men are waiting at the lift, we get in with our unconscious quarries. When we get down, I do my loud drunk routine again, leaning on one of the men, my noise distracting from the quiet of the other two 'drunks'. We get into the waiting cars, you and I in one, McGinty and Moriarty in another one, and we're off.

 

 

_I sit in the car, fuming. Anything related to family puts me in a foul mood. A family member being involved in a plot to kill me, frame my Sebastian, and take over my Empire... is a whole other level of fury._

_I can feel you looking at me. I don't want to talk about it..._

_"Your drunk act was very entertaining, Tiger... well done..." I mumble. I try for a smile, fail, and pound at the car window, screaming._

 

 

Oh my Jim...

I'm over to you, grab you - I don't want you to hurt yourself -

The driver doesn't even look round. This is not out of the ordinary then...

"Jim - Jim... It's OK. We've got them. We're going to make them _suffer_. Spare your fists for them.

So - I take it you know the Moriarty? Relative?"

 

 

_“As a matter of fact, I do know him! Second cousin. Delightful fellow - started with car theft and burglary, and now he’s immersed in the drug trade, bringing all manner of nasty things through Dublin._

_And *you don’t understand*... me and family are *not* a good mix! However much he’s going to suffer... however much he’s going to die... I still have to deal with it! Live with it! It’s much worse for me, Tiger!” I break away from you and pound the window again. You pull me away again, and I fall against your chest, torn between fury and frustrated tears._

_“Just let me- let me-“_

 

 

"Jim... don't hurt your fists. My love..." I hear the driver gasp at _that_ \- he quickly turns it into a cough. I'm holding on to your wrists.

"Whatever is going on with you and your family, save it for him. You can beat him up however much you like. We're almost there," I don't have a clue if we're almost there, but I'm sure we are, have to be, right? "Just... look, if you need to punch something, punch me, OK?" I let go of your hands, kneel in front of you, sit up, tense my stomach muscles. "I will hardly feel it, and it will be better on your hands..."

 

 

_My Sebastian..._

_You would do this for me?_

_I stare in a daze at your abdomen._

_*I'm sure he's right, he'll hardly feel it*..._

_I punch hard._

_*And he asked me to... he wants me to*..._

_I punch again._

_*He cares about me, he doesn't want me to hurt myself*..._

_Another punch..._

_I make the mistake of looking into your eyes, your face screwed up..._

_*Oh god*..._

_"Sebbie - no - " I cry out._

_I try desperately to pull you up. I give up and throw myself against you, whimpering._

_"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Why, Sebastian?" I weep against your chest._

 

 

"Jim - hey, no, Jim - it's fine - Jim! Oh god, Jim..."

You're crying - what went wrong? Oh Jim, please don't cry... Jim...

"Jim... it's fine... I hardly feel it... Jim, come on, I've taken much worse from my combat instructor... Jim..."

Oh my love, my darling... I was just trying to protect you... I seem to have made it worse...

 

 

_"So I didn't hurt you - *this time*!" I shout. "Don't dangle that kind of temptation in front of me... don't you know what I'm capable of?? You mustn't *ever trust me*-" My voice cracks, and my chin trembles_ _."- to know when- to- stop-"_

_Loud, ugly sobs erupt from me. I don't know what's come over me... is this about Sebastian's unbelievable sweetness and love? What I could have done to him? His amnesia and not knowing if his memory will return? Feeling all these *feelings*? This whole sordid affair with the attempted takeover and goddamned Cillian crawling out from a hole?_

_Yes... *yes*… I press my wet face against Sebastian's cheek, holding onto him for dear life as the car drives us to the next stop in the game. All I want to do is curl up with my Tiger, and forget about all this. But I have to make sure we're safe, and the Empire is safe, and to find out everything we can about this goddamn drug... because I am *not* leaving you stranded in limbo._

_I'll do what I need to do, Tiger..._

 

_Moriarty... are you there?_

 

_*Darling. Don't you know?_

_I'm always here*..._

 

 


	12. Shall We Make Them Howl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence, including Sexual Threats and Violence towards nasty criminal types (not our boys), Murder

Oh my Jim... don't cry, my love... I love you, I love you, it hurts when you hurt...

"Jim... my love... don't worry... if it goes too far, I can block you easily, you know that, right? I'm not some helpless kitten you're pummeling at... I'm a Tiger. Jim... please. It's alright. It's fine. You're doing great."

I'm whispering sweet nothings as I'm holding you in my arms, pressed against my chest. I'm sure the driver is fascinated - I'll have a word with him that if any of this leaks out, he's losing more than just a job. I'm pretty sure people don't see James Moriarty cry, and they shouldn't. Only I should. And then I'll do everything in my power to remove the reason James Moriarty is crying. Though right now, I'm not quite sure what that reason is. It appears mostly to do with fear of hurting me.

Jim - don't you realize your tears hurt me way more than your fists ever could?

 

 

_"You don't understand... you don't remember... the things I did..." I mumble into your neck as you soothe, and kiss, and caress. "Why did you do it? Why did you let me hurt you?"_

_*Because he needed it. And you do, too. So let him give this to you*... I can see Moriarty smiling sweetly at me as he whispers in my head._

_Shut up, I growl in my head. I need you for the job, and to stop me from crying... don't *tell* me what to do with Sebastian. He's *mine*._

_*He was mine first, darling... I got him for you, broke him down, honed him into the perfect tool, the perfect toy, and now you want him all for yourself? Tsk... so greedy. We'll share*... Moriarty purrs._

_He's not your tool, and he's not your toy!!_

_*So greedy, darling... keeping the best toy for yourself... well, you can't pick and choose when I come out to play. Thanks for the invitation, I've been SO BORED!!*_

_My eyes widen and I abruptly stop weeping. I pull myself back from you. "Don't be foolish, Sebastian. You can't block me if you're under my thrall. Don't offer yourself as a sacrifice on the altar of James Moriarty- it's always thirsting for more blood, more suffering, more pain. And that's all the warning I'll give you, because I *want* your blood and suffering and pain. Believe me when I tell you I can't always be trusted."_

_I smile at you fiercely. I move my hands over my face, wipe away the tears... I feel my eyes take on a gleam of madness... and I welcome it._

_The car pulls to the curb, and I see we're back at the building with the fake apartment. "Oh, good! Just in time, my altar's gone terribly dry. Ready for a sacrifice, Tiger?"_

 

 

You're weeping into my chest and I'm caressing you, trying to comfort you, when something shifts inside you. It's nearly physical - like a blackout curtain being drawn across a sunlit window, I feel your warmth receding. You pull back and - that's not you. That's the killer. Who _is_ you, but - now he's talking to _me_ , and it's... unnerving, but also - electrifying. The danger of such a fearsome predator close up - makes me want to dance with Death. You seem terrified of this side of you - and I can see why - but he hasn't killed me so far. What could he show me, I wonder...

For now, what he's going to show me will not feature _my_ blood and pain at least. We're going to have a chat with McGinty and Fake Moriarty, and I'm _very keen_ to hear how they were going to kill you and take over your Empire. _Very_ keen. As well as _anything_ they care to tell me about the drug they've given me.

I smile my feral grin. This is going to be interesting.

"Ready, Boss..."

 

 

_I pull you into a kiss, and my teeth pull on your lower lip as I break away._

_Then I step out of the car, hands in pockets as I’m going for a moonlit stroll. I look up._

 

_“Full moon tonight, Tiger...” I comment. “Shall we make them howl?”_

_“It’ll be beautiful, Boss...” you murmur._

 

_You walk behind me closely. I can feel your eyes on me... I sense curiosity, fascination, excitement... but no fear. Even after my warning? Brave Tiger... (*Reckless* Tiger...)_

_I step into the building lobby, and one of my men holds the inner door open for me. Down we go into the hallway... up the elevator... men in dark clothing nodding at us as we go. We enter the fake apartment, and I look back at you as we pass by the bedroom where we fucked like animals a short time ago. You wink at me then return to monitoring the surroundings. In the kitchen, we go into the walk-in pantry and a door is opened for us by yet another man in dark clothing. It leads to a small antechamber, which gives way to a large room - two men sit tied to chairs, with three men standing behind them._

_“Cillian!” I exclaim. “What’s it been, twenty years! How’s your mam?”_

_I turn to the other man. “And the man who brought about this little reunion! Kevin McGinty, pleased to make your acquaintance! Should I call you Kev? Or Mr McGinty?”_

 

 

Your gait on the pavement is a thing of beauty, a dance in the dark, a lycanthrope en route to a banquet. Oh god - I can see why you tried to warn me away from this side of you, but he's _magnificent_. I want to fall at your feet and worship you - god of death, god of cruelty, god of pain...

God, I _am_ fucked up, aren't I? Anyway, this explains why I was so mad about you even before you were sweet and loving.

Anonymous man after man opens doors for us, guards corridors for us, and I feel a stab of guilt at just waltzing through and ignoring them. These are _our_ men - I should know each and every one of them, first not to be an arrogant bastard, second - because I need to know their strengths and weaknesses. These guys are responsible for your survival.

Well, I will get to know them all again - but not now.

We reach the room where McGinty and Cillian sit, still a bit woozy, but coming round. Lucky, aren't you? Being injected with only a short-working drug? Bastards...

 

 

_“Wha’? Who are you guyz? What da fuck is dis?” Mr McGinty blusters._

_Cillian sighs heavily. “It’s fucking James Moriarty, ye fool... I told you not to get cocky...”_

_His eyes swing to me. “Hello, cousin Jimmy... such a pleasure! Gonna kill me?”_

_“Well, since you were going to take over for me, you must have had some idea of how to deal with usurpers trying to seize the crown...” I look at him expectantly._

_“Oooh. Fancy ideas, Jimmy. Where’s de fancy suit to match? Who d’ye think you’re foolin’ with dis get-up? Ye haven’t been a proper Irishman since the day ye left Dublin...”_

_“Oh and what do I need to do for you to consider me a proper Irishman? Should I get drunk and pick a fight with you in the car park?” I ask in a curious voice._

_McGinty laughs. “I see whatcha mean, Moriarty... No Irish pride...”_

_“Irish pride...” I laugh. “Tell me, Mr McGinty...” I drawl in a New York accent. “How many timez have ye been to de old country?”_

_“I’ve been enough times...” he sneers._

_“Yeah, an’ at least he’s not a feckin’ plastic paddy like some gobshite I won’t mention...” Cillian drawls._

_“You!” I snap to one of the men in black. “Bring me a bottle of whisky - I saw one in the living room. And three shot glasses... We’re going to play a little game...”_

_“What are you doing, Jim?” you murmur, leaning in to me._

_“Playing a little game, I said...” I purr, and stroke your cheek._

 

 

OK... I'm not interrupting James Moriarty in mid-flow, but I'm going to keep a very close eye on you. I am sure you know what you're doing at all times, but I'm not sure how this family thing has affected you. You seemed very upset - and these guys are playing on your national pride, and I have no idea how you feel about that.

I keep my hand on my gun, keep my eyes observing any movement in the room, alert for any _other_ of your men that may have been lured into the service of these shits, and do a general 'look vaguely threatening lurking in the background' which I assume is what bodyguards do.

 

 

_I grab a chair, and drag it over to them._

_“You like games don’t you, Cillian? It was so much fun playing games with you when I was young... and you and your brother would trip me and shove me, and laugh and laugh... and then threaten to hurt me if I told. Remember?”_

_I throw a leg over the chair and straddle the back. I lean my arms on it, and rest my head on them._

_“I never told anyone,” I confide. “I can keep secrets. And this game deals with all kinds of secrets. It’s called “Never Have I Ever” ... have you heard of it?”_

_Cillian looks disturbed, and McGinty looks disdainful. “No. What is it?”_

_“Simple. We take turns saying “Never Have I Ever” and then something that we may or may not have done. Like, “I never murdered the two men who injected Sebastian with a memory loss drug...” I would drink, and you would not. Because *I* did that, and you didn’t. Isn’t that fun? Oh, drinks!” I clap my hands, as one of the men brings over the shot glasses and fills them._

_“Someone will help you drink,” I say in a friendly tone. “Just nod if you need a shot. Now... I’ll go first, if no one minds?_

_“Never Have I Ever... plotted to kill me, frame my bodyguard, and then take over my London operation... go!”_

_I look at their stubborn faces with concern. “Do you not understand the game? Here, this will help. If you don’t either take a drink or tell me the correct information, Sebastian will cause you pain - his choice how. I don’t tell him how to do his job. But he’s very good at it and he’s very angry with you for what you did... so it’s in your favour to play the game correctly. Do you need a drink? Or do you have different information for me?”_

_One by one they nod. I snap, and two of my men hold up shots of whisky to their mouths. They start to drink, and I snap, “Faster! This is a party game, not Christmas Eve around a fireplace with your loved ones.” The shot glasses are tipped back and they choke down their drinks, coughing._

_I eye them. “It’s Jameson... should be to your liking, no? All right, next question! Never Have I Ever... plotted with the rest of the New York crime bosses to kill me, frame my bodyguard, and take over my London operation. Go!”_

 

 

Huh. This is absolutely mental, but you never know - it may work. I keep up my vaguely threatening look when they both glance at me after your threat that I might cause them pain, which seems effective enough. I decide to get one of my knives out to clean my nails as I look lovingly and admiringly at you.

 

 

_One by one they nod. I look at you significantly. Whisky is brought to their lips and they manage to choke it down, with a little less coughing. “Pause the game! This is just too juicy a secret to go on quite yet... So, the rest of the crime bosses are aware of your little plan...?”_

_“Uh... dey didn’t plan it or nothin’, but- dey knew.” McGinty clears his throat. “What are the odds that I’m gonna walk outta here alive? Is there anything I can give you to guarantee my safety?”_

_“Well, I would very much like all the information you have on this drug you gave my bodyguard... where you got it... what you know about it... contact information about the supplier. The works. That’s the only thing that I would consider worth trading for vengeance.”_

_“Don’t be an eedjit,” Cillian growls. “Ye tell him anyting, and ye die...”_

_“Yes, but if you *don’t* tell me anything, then you *definitely* die...” I say to McGinty in a reassuring tone._

_“At least there’s a *chance* I’ll let you go.”_

_“What’s dis obsession with your bodyguard anyway, Jimmy?” Cillian asks in a mean voice. “Someting tells me yer relationship is not strictly professional... is dat right?”_

_I look at you seductively. “My dear cousin is asking if I’m a fag as he always suspected.... and whether we’re fucking. Do you want to field this one?”_

 

 

"It'll be my _pleasure_ , my love..." I grin, stepping forward. The look of disgust on Cillian's face infuriates me. Didn't like your cousin being a fag, did you? Bullied him and hurt him, did you? Oh I'm going to _enjoy_ playing with you...

"See, Cillian - is that how you say it? Cillian? Beautiful name..." I walk around the chair, strolling lazily. "You see, Cillian, your cousin, that man over there, he left Ireland, because it was too small for him. He needed a place like London to properly unfold his genius..." Oh keep looking disgusted, it's going to get much better...

"Your cousin, Cillian... Look at him... His beauty is unsurpassable, his cruelty knows no bounds, his brilliance is off the scale... He has London, England, much of the world in his grip... which is why your American friends were so keen to take over... like they could _ever_..." I squat down in front of the bound man, look into his eyes.

"But _you_ , Cillian... you look an awful lot like him. I wonder... are you anything like him? Were you going to take over the Empire, rule it like he had done? Is it a family trait...? You do look alike... have you got what it takes, I wonder?"

I get up again. "Are we fucking, you wonder? I mean - look at him - who would not fight, kill, and die to fuck him? He just oozes raw sexuality... god, are we fucking... Morning, noon, and night... A nod from him, and I bend over, and have that gorgeous cock in my arse... It's _magnificent..._ " I smile at you, infatuation dripping from my face.

"But there's just one thing..." I ponder. "See, he's breathtaking... but... he never lets me fuck _him_. And that's something that I have been wanting for years... been dying to... been dreaming of... And you _do_ look a lot like him... I just wonder..." I turn to you. "Jim, my darling... would you mind awfully if I..." I nod at Cillian, who is looking distinctly less disgusted, and a whole lot more panicky.

 

 

_"Oh I'm so flattered, darling! If you want to engage in that fantasy, you go right ahead. I'll watch and see what it would look like to be fucked by you. If it looks intriguing, I might just change my mind and let you." I wink at you and turn to Cillian. "He's an absolute dream to fuck, so I think you'll be in for something special."_

_I snap at the man with the whisky. "Next round! I've never been magnificently fucked up the arse by Sebastian Moran." I pause as the two prisoners gape at me._

_"Oh. Should I save this question for later then? It's so boring if no one drinks..."_

 

 

I walk over to Cillian, nod to one of the guys in black. "Would you mind loosening the ropes a bit, so I can have access to..."

"No! Stop this! Jimmy! Tell him to stop, come on, ye wouldn't let him..."

"Oh you'd be amazed what I let him... he's hard to stop when he gets something in his head..."

"Jimmy! Fuck off! Ye can't - _Get off me!!_ " He jerks away from me licking his neck. So rude.

"No! Call him off! _Jimmy!_ "

"I don't know... if I call him off, I get a sulking bodyguard, and an unhelpful cousin... if I don't call him off, I still have an unhelpful cousin, but at least a happy bodyguard... Ha. The balance is definitely in favour of not calling him off..." you ponder.

"Fuck it! McGinty! Tell him about dat fucking drug! Fuck's sake, man!" he shouts as my hand is sliding into his shirt.

"Oh?" you ask, holding up a hand. I pull back from Cillian, though still hover close to him.

 

 

_McGinty is watching the entire proceedings in utter shock and horror. Oh, darling - you are *so* out of your league..._

_"All right, just stop this! Fuck! I'll give you all the information I have about the drug. It's all in my phone..." He gestures with his head towards his jacket pocket._

_You reach into his jacket and grab the phone. "Code," you snap, and he stammers out the number._

_"So? Where is it?" you growl._

_"E-mail - there's an attachment about the drug, and information about the supplier. Just search Haskett, that's my contact who set it up for me. And uh... I'm really sorry about what we did..."_

_I laugh. "That's so sweet! Isn't that sweet, darling? Did you find the information?"_

_You pocket the phone. "Got it."_

 

_"Delightful. Now just a few more questions, and we'd better be off. We do have that meeting to attend..."_

_"Oh, are we finished playing the game?" Cillian says in a nasty voice. "I never got *my* turn..."_

 

_"Cillian - *game over*," I explain patiently. "And you lost before we ever started playing."_

_"Oh, you're too *scared* to keep playing... I can see why. I'm guessing your sweetheart doesn't know all *your* secrets." He stares at me with a feral grin and I freeze. "Next round, Jimmy! Never have I ever... killed my mother and ended up in a mental institution. Go!"_

 

 

Your face pales and goes very still.

Your cousin grins maniacally. Oh, there _is_ a family resemblance - but where in you it's electrifying, it makes him just look like a loon.

You look at me, a quick glance, to see my response -

Look - I don't know if I knew this. But either way - I don't care.

Except that this lowlife has upset you. Again.

I plonk myself onto his lap, holding on to the chair back behind him.

"Look, Cillian..." I purr, as he moves his head as far away from mine as he can. "You forgot, ahhah, that I have amnesia. I don't remember _any_ of the secrets that Jim has told me in our dark, long, steamy nights. But if you think that you can discredit him in my eyes... make me admire, love, and worship him _any_ less... god, you're the biggest fool Ireland has vomited out in decades.

But." I scowl at him. "You upset him. And you know what happens to people who upset James Moriarty? That's right - _I_ happen. Now - Jim - am I right that the questions you want answered are all for McGinty? Or do you need this gobshite for anything?"

 

 

_White noise in my ears..._

_cold pouring into me..._

_the feeling of glass shattering... over and over and over..._

_*Sebastian will hate me... think I'm a monster*..._

_*I am a monster*..._

_Take source of Pain - tear apart source of Pain -_

_I start to move forward when I see you're already in motion._

_Sebastian is dealing with the Pain..._

_"Why would I need anything from a dead man?" I hear the words and I *sound* cruel and arrogant, even though inside I feel hollow._

_Take care of this Pain for me, Tiger..._

 

 

Oh god - yes, there's your voice, all cold and sharp, but - I can't be the only one who hears the pain underneath? I surely can't be the only one who feels it stab into his heart? I definitely can't be the only one who wants to crush this lowlife into dust - can I?

 _You. Hurt. My. Jim._ I look at the dead man, still wriggling away from me. Don't worry, cousin... You won't have to wriggle for long.

"Good." My voice sounds calm, even though I am anything but.

"You can start asking McGinty questions, and I'll deal with cousin Cillian here, as an incentive to his answering quickly and truthfully. What do you think - should we gag him, so he doesn't interrupt McGinty's words with his screams? Or - no, you're right, McGinty can repeat himself. It would be a shame to stifle Cillian's expression."

I get up off Cillian's lap, look around at the men around the room. "Now, I've been quite turned off by this little shit - I don't think I could get it up, to be honest. But is there any of you who would like a taste of what it's like to fuck a proper Moriarty?" The men find many points of interest around the room that are not my eyes. "Come on, it's the closest you'll ever get to fucking your boss..."

Shoes, cuffs, guns, and the ceiling continue to be more interesting than me.

"Too bad, cousin Cillian. I was going to shove a cock up your arse, but none are forthcoming. However, you have made it _so_ clear that you're absolutely _dying_ to be fucked, I won't deny you. This will have to do..." I pick up a wooden chair, pull out the leg, crack it across my knee, break it into two pieces, both edged by long sharp splinters.

"Undo his ropes," I order. Two of the men hasten to obey.

 

 

_*Tiger*…_

_I know you're not afraid to go dark, but..._

_*oh*…_

_*darling*…_

_Because of what he said? Because of my reaction? I was going to get pulled under by it, be turned inside out by it... but the feelings seemed to slam to a standstill when I saw your reaction, and now... I'm watching in fascination as you're approaching my hated cousin with a jagged chair leg in your hand... like something from a nightmare..._

_You had suggested I interrogate McGinty further, but we appear to be frozen in time as he watches you in terror and I watch in utter awe._

 

 

I'm sure you'll interrupt me if I go too far. Until then - I shall not rest until this excuse for a Moriarty is a pile of meat and blood at my feet.

_He hurt my Jim._

On my instructions, the men tie him over the chair. He's struggling and shouting, but he's ignored - _until_ he starts shouting abuse at you, when I kick his face, making his nose bleed.

I use my knife to cut off his belt - his trousers - his pants. His skin ends up cut in a few places too.

I start singing a song I remember - I don't know what from, but it seems apt.

_We're on our own, cousin_

_All alone, cousin_

_Let's think of a game to play_

_Now the grownups have all gone away..._

 

 

_"Jaisus Christ, Jimmy! Yer not going to let him do dis, are ye?" Cillian shouts over your singing. His voice snaps me out of my stupor._

_"Well, he seems quite intent on ye being fucked, one way or anoder..." I say, my accent stronger than I've spoken in years. "An' ah don't wanna interfere wit’ his fun..."_

_"Fuck's sake, Jimmy - stop this!" his voice is getting high-pitched and desperate. “Don't do this!"_

_"You were part of a plan to *kill me* an’ take over my organization... yer a real chancer, aren't ye? Bad enough ye tried to play the big game and ye lost, but now you're trowin' the past in my face, to wha’? Upset me? Make my bodyguard turn against me? Well, ye tried an’ ye failed... and now it's time for de consequences, ye fool..."_

_I look at you, waiting with a look of fury on your face._

 

_"No! Don't!" he screams._

_"Cillian, if dere are no consequences, den how will ye ever learn? " I ask in a very patient voice._

 

_"But... we're family!!"_

_I sigh. "Eejit... James Moriarty has no family."_

_I nod to you. "However you want him to go out, Tiger... you can play with him first or not. Just end him."_

 

 

“You know the best thing about homophobes, cousin?” I ask. “It’s that their arseholes are so incredibly tight...”

He’s squeezing his closed with all his might, but he’s no match for a pissed-off Tiger.

_You hurt my Jim._

There’s so much pain inside you, so much old hurt, and here I have one of the people responsible, right under my hands.

As well as one of the people who wanted to kill you. And one of the people who drugged me, potentially wrecking my mind forever.

Oh cousin - you’ve unleashed an avenging angel... or demon, rather.

“Don’t Catholics believe in Hell? I’m just preparing you…” I say before his screams drown me out.

 

 

_I tilt my head to watch as you get to work with the chair leg as it was never intended to be used._

_Jesus, you're livid... and it's not just about the drugging... it's about *me*, what he did to me, how that made you feel... *God*… I have the most loyal, loving, protective bodyguard on the planet... and the sweetest psychopath *ever*._

_I'm barely registering the screams as I walk up to you and trail my hand along your back._

_"You're so good to me, Tiger..." I croon. "When all this is done and dealt with, we're going to take a day off. And do lovely, terrible things to each other. Could you stop screaming so loud, Cillian - I'm trying to ask my darling out on our first date. Would you like that, Sebastian?"_

 

 

I briefly interrupt my torture of your cousin to turn to you, grab your head, kiss you violently. "I'd love that, my darling... though I hope I'm not giving you _ideas_..." I grin.

Then I turn back to my subject. I'm sorry cousin, I've got to be a _very_ frustrated Tiger over the past few days, and you're the one who gets to bear the brunt of my frustration.

Well - I'm not sorry, really.

This doesn't need to be pretty - he doesn't need to tell you anything - I can live out my full anger and fear.

I have him tied upright again, the chair leg remaining in place, and I let go with my fists. This isn't about you, cousin... you're the receptacle for all the hours of loss I felt, roaming through my dark mind... for the frustration I've felt seeing Jim hurt and being unable to do anything... for the anger at you lot wanting to _kill_ him...

His screams stop long before I stop punching.

 

 

_"Sebastian, my sweet-" I lightly place my hand on your back. "You've done a fine job on dear Cillian, but he's not feeling anything anymore- even that chair leg you've gone and jammed in him like he's an ice lolly," I chuckle. "Why don't you take a moment, and let me take care of this..." I touch your face, and then turn back to Cillian, sitting slumped over in the chair and breathing raggedly. I crouch down in front of him, and lift up his head by the hair. His eyelids flutter._

_'You would have died, anyway..." I say conversationally. "Of course you would have... but you could have spared yourself - well, *that*," I snicker. "You always were a fool, Cillian... if you know what I'm capable of, why would you try to upset me? Someone who killed their own mother is hardly going to hold back. But you just can't stop yourself from being a bully and an arsehole, can you...? Well, this is a message from the past. When little Jimmy grows up - rules change. Open your eyes, cousin - you're going to want to see this."_

_I grab the broken chair, break off another leg, and shove it hard through his eye. He goes still and slumps backwards in the chair. I look back at you, watching._

_"I don't know, Tiger- I did consider stabbing him elsewhere, but I'm kind of enjoying this, thematically. It's like a 'they'll never see it coming' kind of thing." I glance over at McGinty, who's pissed himself and is whimpering in his chair._

_"So... New York thought I wasn't anyone to fear..." I purr. "Have we revised our opinion, darling?"_

 

 

I’m filled with a red darkness... I don’t quite realize you’re talking to me until you touch my face.

 _Rage_... the Tiger inside roars. He wants to tear out jugulars, gorge himself in blood, lacerate, fuck, possess...

 _I want you_ pulses through my head when I see you, but you’re speaking, and you’re occupied with something else, some other lowlife, and the Tiger smells _fear_ , and I have to restrain myself from jumping the prey, because you are talking with him.

 

 

_"Oh, Jesus - I'm so sorry, Mr Moriarty... what can I do to make it up to you?" he pleads. "Anything. Do you want our territory? I'll help you get it."_

 

_"You're going to sell out your entire organization to save your skin..." I say curiously. "Criminal kingpins today... they're not what they used to be! Are they, Tiger?"_

_You growl a 'no' and pace behind me. God... you've gone to the feral place. It's unbelievably hot to have you behind me looking like you want to tear out throats. McGinty definitely looks like he's afraid that will happen. Well you should be... fucker._

_"I could stand to hear more about the meeting tonight..." I say. "So your minions said I would die *after*. What was it going to be - slow-acting poison? Assassin? I'm guessing not assassin, you're clearly aware of what Sebastian is capable of. Explosion? Swarm of killer bees? What?"_

_I hear mad laughter behind me, and I smirk._

_"Sebastian doesn't think it's killer bees. Is it?"_

_McGinty sighs heavily. "If I tell you, will you let me live? I'll be your spy, I'll do anything you want... But if you kill me, you won't know what you're walking into..."_

_"He's holding out, Sebastian... why would he do that?" I ask peevishly._

 

 

I grumble that I wouldn't know, it's certainly not in his best interest... pick up the chair and take the third leg, making him wince and cry out, "No! No I'm sorry Mr Moriarty - I'll tell you all I know... just let me go afterwards... I'll be of such excellent use to you - I know _everyone_ in New York, and I know _exactly_ what they're up to... I'll hand it to you on a silver plate, I swear...

Tonight... they were going to use poison. Slow acting - should stop your heart somewhere during the night when your heart rate slowed down. I don't know the name - something long, they called it C-13. They were going to hand you a phone with information, the stuff was going to be on it, absorbed through the skin as you were holding and swiping it. You'd die - our man on the inside would start rumours that Moran had killed you in your sleep - people would realize they'd seen him act strange - Moriarty - Cillian Moriarty, that is - would step up and say he's your brother and you'd trained him to take over after your death, and the first thing he'd do would be to execute Moran for your murder."

Moran starts growling at this. As _if_ anyone would _believe_ that -

I realize I don't know _what_ anyone would believe, because I _still_ don't know these people. But - the thought -

 

 

_“Fascinating plan... I was riveted! Who came up with it? You?” I ask softly._

_McGinty shifts in his chair. “Not exactly... I just made it happen.”_

_“I don’t know that I believe you... your minions gave me *your* name.”_

_He scoffs. “Dose lowlifes? What do dey know about the organization?”_

_“Stop wasting his time,” you snarl, your hand gripping the chair leg tightly._

_“Yes, the longer you take, the more I think you’re just thinking up a tall tale... but you’re Irish, aren’t you? We all know how much we love our stories...” I say in a gleeful voice._

_“So while you’re working on yours, would you like to hear one from me?”_

_I throw myself on the chair and cross one leg over the other._

_“Once upon a time, oh god that’s derivative, but - it *is* traditional... there lived a would-be King in the land known as the Americas. His name was Lord Kevin Small-Potatoes. Now, Lord Small-Potatoes had *big* dreams that he was going to make it after all...” I say with relish._

_“So he decided to take on an Emperor from a distant land ... to *kill* him and take all his lands... when the Emperor heard this, he felt very sad. So he went to his very best knight and said ‘Tiger, do you have a blunt object I can use?’ You’ve wasted enough of my time,” I roar, snatch the chair leg and lunge at him._

_I press it up under McGinty’s jaw, until he starts to make choking sounds. “I will skewer you like a kebab,” I whisper ferociously. “Who else was involved with this plan... approved of it... thought it was *funny*... Give me *all* the names, Kev... you do *not* want me to ask again...”_

 

 

"Pt... phoh," McGinty tries, and you release the pressure on the leg somewhat. "Pott..." he croaks. "Lawler... Andrews. It was Pott's idea... He wanted to take over London. I knew Moriarty... he was my input, but the rest of the plan was his - Lawler came up with the poison and the stuff they gave to Mr Moran... Lawler and Andrews are here, but Potts stayed back in New York... you'll never get him if I don't help you... He's impossible to find... but I know him... I can get him for you..."

 

 

_“*Lawler, Andrews and Pott*... sounds like a firm of idiot solicitors - doesn’t it, Tiger? Well, this ambitious trio needs to be checked out. You don’t mind waiting for a bit, do you, Kev? Tiger, I need a moment if you could entertain our guest...” I uncross my legs, stand up and wander off, tapping at my phone._

_“M-Mr Moriarty?” the prisoner calls after me, sounding frantic._

_“With you in a moment,” I say, sounding bored as I walk away. He doesn’t see my feral smile._

 

 

'Entertain'? What does that mean, 'entertain'? Well, certainly not something that will incapacitate his vocal cords... but I don't know if you want to use him to get into New York, so nothing permanently and visibly damaging either. Fortunately I have enough creativity to not let it be stifled by such restrictions.

I know, I could sing - singing is entertainment, isn't it? I am so happy I recall that song, I feel the urge to sing more bits of it.

_Tied to that chair_

_You won't go anywhere_

_There's a lot I can do with a freak..._

_Maybe a cigarette burn on your arm_

_Would change your expression to one of alarm_

_Drag you around by a lock of your hair_

_Or give you a push at the top of the stairs..._

That reminds me that I haven't had a fag in _ages_. I light one up, buttoning open his shirt slowly. I'm not going to waste a perfectly good fag on him - he can wait until I've got my nicotine fix. He doesn't realize this though, and is crying and promising me mounds of gold in New York. It's as much to shut him up as because I've had enough that I finally stub out my fag on his nipple. He screams.

 

 

_As I'm learning what I can about the New Yorkers, I hear shrieks behind me. Followed by sobbing and pleading. Repeat..._

_I dig deep into their profiles, make a few calls... and determine that it's certainly within reason to believe what McGinty is saying. He doesn't seem bright enough to have come up with this plan himself - no matter what my sources say about him being a contender to take over the New York chapter of the Irish mob - he seems more cut-throat and ruthless than anything. No finesse - which is what this plot would have required._

_These three mobsters seem to be the real brains, and are either setting McGinty up or want to pull his strings like a puppet king. Finally - a challenge. I smile as I walk back to you amidst the sound of shrieking._

 

 

"Any luck, Boss?" I ask as you walk back in. "I didn't know how intact you wanted him, so I only damaged him a little, nothing that would show." There are nice shallow parallel lines all over his chest, and I've been peeling the skin off between two of them. McGinty is sobbing.

 

 

_“Well, it’s likely that he’s telling the truth, those three appear to have the brains to have planned this, more so than our sobbing friend. What exactly did you- *oh*. My, Tiger. Nice work._

_Now I don’t think you’re going to like this, but I feel we should keep him alive while we’re dealing with the rest of them - should we need any additional information about the organization. I know, Tiger - I had hoped to have this wrapped up soon - literally. But you just never know what may come up...”_

 

 

"Oh, I have no problems keeping him _alive_. It's the keeping him in one piece that I struggle with," I smile at you.

"So - anything you'd like to ask him at the moment? Or shall we adjourn to the adjacent chambers and plot nefariously?"

I seem to have swallowed a dictionary. I hope that's a good thing - memory coming back? Words first?

 

 

_I eye you speculatively. My, you're using fancy words - I know you have a good vocabulary, my former Oxford scholar - but you generally hide it under layers of gruffness, sarcasm, and irreverence so no one can guess at your not-so-humble origins._

_"Come, my dear - let's return to your fake apartment and plot something wonderfully violent. If there's anything we need to know, we can pay him a visit. He'll get so bored otherwise..."_

_We leave with nary a glance at him. We take the same route and find ourselves in the decoy apartment._

_I throw myself down on the sofa. "Do you have anything to drink in your fake refrigerator, Tiger?"_

 

 

I do indeed. I get us both an orange juice and sit down with you.

“So - any plans for tonight? I’d be tempted to blow the whole lot up and send whatever remains to Mr Pott with the kind request not to plot against the Emperor any more. Or are you tempted to take over New York?

I’m _really_ not comfortable with this poison. They may have had some backup plans - in case something went wrong with the phone - have some extra ways of administering it, god knows - it could be on the door handle, a hair-thin needle launched from a blowpipe-“

You laugh at that.

“You can laugh all you like, but I’m not letting you walk into a trap set by guys who have access to more poisons than you,” I say stubbornly.

 

 

_"Well, that's simply unacceptable... I should have their poisons, shouldn't I? And no, I'm not going to walk into the silly meeting now... I've been quite put off by it. I'm not sure I *need* to take over New York, but I don't know if Mr Pott should get off with just a friendly warning... at the very least it should be an unfriendly warning." I drink my juice, thinking. "A downright bitchy warning would be appropriate.”_

_"I've had my fill of interrogations for one day,” I declare. “I should be able to access their database of poisons from my laptop. And I don't need to make their demise personal, unless you'd like to... blowing up the lot sounds fine. We could make it an early evening, dinner and shagging, and then deal with the plot against Pott tomorrow. Will you 'let' me do that?" I ask, and put down my empty glass on the coffee table with a thump and a feral smile._

 

 

“Have you got people who can deal with the blowing up, or is that something I usually do? There should definitely be a sniper or two to deal with any escapees. Drivers waiting in cars? Actually, you want to make sure all people are inside before you do anything. Do you have people who you trust to do that, or shall I take care of it? You’ll need to introduce me to the people I’ll be working with though. I don’t remember who does what. And I’ll need the faces of Andrews and Lawler...”

 

 

_I rub my eyes. "You could take care of it, darling - but it's been *a day* and I'm sick of the whole thing, to be honest. Why don't we just point some of my trusted people at it, and have the evening for ourselves. Tomorrow we have to figure out the Pott plot, and investigate that drug and find a solution for you. Possibly take over New York - we'll see how much we're up for after breakfast." I lean back against the sofa, rest my head on the cushions._

_"Maybe I'll give Pott a call myself, let him know the bad news. I could send a gif of the meeting room exploding, with my condolences. Send him a tasteful flower arrangement, or a basket of muffins..."_

_I look over at you considering all of this. "But if you prefer to deliver payback in person tonight, I completely understand. What do you want, Tiger?"_

 

 

"I'm fine if they die - I don't have to be there. I'm quite keen on revenge, but I'd rather deliver it in person face-to-face, and that's going to be too risky. If it's just going to be blowing stuff up - I'm happy with letting others do it, if you trust them. I'm not quite yet ready to lead a team - I don't know the guys yet. You'll have to help me, re-introduce me as it were. Lest I send the wrong guy to do the wrong thing...

Also, I really really want to fuck you. I guess that's the adrenaline from the interrogation - it's less strong than it was earlier, but - I really felt quite animalistic. I could suppress it if needed, it's not that I didn't have my wits about me any more, but there were two main impulses - kill or fuck. Am I usually like that?"

 

 

_I run my hand over your face and down your chest. “They do tend to be your main defaults, yes. Interspersed with Drink, Eat, and Be a Smart-Arse. You do appreciate a good Laze too, like a proper Tiger. But on the job - definitely Kill or Fuck.“_

_Within an instant, I’ve straddled you and wrapped my arms around your neck. “I have never said this in my life - but I’m looking forward to taking a long, hot shower with you. And then I want to spend the evening wringing every bit of pleasure I can from your body. But can you wait that long, Tiger... or do you need a taste to tide you over...?”_

 

 

God - _yes_. You jumping on my lap and looking like that definitely makes the fire blaze again. I wrap my arms around you, pull you closer, growling, hungry, not for blood but for you... or both...

"I think I do..."

 

 

_"Yeah? What do you have a taste for?" I move my pelvis against yours. "Something naughty? Something dirty, you *bad* Tiger?"_

 

 

Fuck, Jim...

I'm not in the mood for niceties, not now - I want you; now. It's very basic, raw - just give me an opening in your body and let me loose at it.

I don't know how you feel; but I'm sure you'll mention it if you're unhappy. I push you down on the sofa, kissing you possessively, growling, biting at your jaw and neck, pulling at your clothes.

 

 

_Oh, aggressive Tiger... I *like* aggressive Tiger._

_And it unleashes the same in me. I unzip your trousers, yank them down along with your pants. Your cock springs free, fully erect and looking for a home._

_By the looks of things, I'm not going to get a chance to decide where - but things have shifted significantly in the last two days, and I'm all right with that. More than all right._

_I kiss you back madly, while kicking off my trousers. My nails rake down your chest, and your gasp is like the sweetest wine._

_I rake them down your abdomen next and bite your lip._

 

 

Fuck, you're scratching my skin and it awakens the tiger even further... you seem completely alright with this though, so I see no reason to tone it down. You're naked, which is as you should be. I reach for your jacket, take out the lube - you don't protest - right - fucked you shall be, my murderous love, my willing prey...

I slide off the couch, pull you with me, press you down over the seat, my left hand on your shoulder, my mouth kissing and biting the back of your neck, my right hand working its way inside you.

 

 

_I always had such conflicted feelings about being fucked by you..._

_I wanted it... craved it... but I could barely even admit it to myself._

_When it happened, I had to dominate you even harder to re-establish control._

_It’s taken two exceptional days to reach this conclusion, but there’s no denying how I feel about it now -_

_Being fucked by you is so bloody *HOT*._

_And it’s not that I don’t feel any resistance or conflict anymore... or even violent impulses. It’s just not going to stop me from having what I want._

_Right now you’re biting my neck, and it’s making me think of animals in the wild, and *fuck* I want you..._

_I turn my head back towards you and snarl, “Enough courtship, Sebastian - just put your cock in me and *fuck me*...”_

 

 

"As you wish," I growl, rub some lube onto my cock, and press it against you - fuck, I want you... I'm guiding myself inside, going as slow as I can, as fast as I dare, seeing your face distort and relax as you let yourself sink into it, and I want this, I need this, I earned this, my prey, my prize; I'm the king of the jungle and I'm claiming what's rightfully mine...

 

 

_My body accepts your invasion and I groan as you start thrusting into me._

_One hand is gripping my hip almost painfully, pulling me back against your powerful strokes... one hand is curled around my throat. Ohh... someone's getting territorial... I'm feeling *claimed*, and oh *fuck* that's hot... and something I would have made you pay *dearly* for in the past. Well, I still *will* - of course I will! - not out of anger, but sheer intoxicating pleasure._

_"Are you staking a claim, Tiger? Is that what's happening?" I whisper fiercely, looking back. "You realize no one's ever had the gall to *try*... don't you?"_

 

 

"Of course..." I say in a hoarse voice, pushing myself deeper. "No one else would stand a fucking _chance_... snowflake in front of a flame thrower... But I'm different from the rest of the world, Jim Moriarty..." my fingers dig into your hips as I push all the way in. "I'm a motherfucking _Tiger_ , and more than that, I'm _your_ Tiger..." I pull slowly back. "I know I couldn't claim you if you didn't want to be claimed... But you love it... You love feeling my strength..." I pull your hips back, onto my cock. "Because you know that strength is yours, completely and utterly... and the stronger and more powerful I am, the more you are... It's a virtuous cycle... " I pull back slightly, then ram back in, my hand on your throat. "And admit it - it's fucking _hot_..."

 

 

_Your words are like aphrodisiac bombs exploding in my body... desire pours through me like wildfire..._

_Every time you ram into me, I groan. Every time you pull out, I'm trying not to whimper and *not* always succeeding._

_What you're saying is *fucking* audacious, and if there's one thing that always gets me it's your audacity..._

_"*Yes* - arrogant, audacious tigers are fucking hot... Go on then..." I say in a voice like raw, dripping honey. "Let me feel your strength, sweet thing..."_

 

 

I growl at that, animal desire taking over even more now I have your approval - my hand moves from your throat to between your shoulders, pushing you down onto the sofa, my other hand grabs your hip, holding you in place as I pick up the pace - my lust is guiding my moves and thoughts, there is nothing here but you and the feeling of you around my cock, driving me on, driving me wild... my Jim...

My fingers dig into your hips as I ram into you, god I love you but you're just a vessel for my cock now, I _need_ this, I need to fuck you raw...

 

 

_Oh fuck, Tiger... *yes*..._

_Yes -_

_overpower me-_

_Yes –_

_claim me -_

_Yes –_

_make my body submit to you -_

_Surrender to you -_

_Yes, my red hot man,_

_my soldier,_

_my Tiger..._

_Oh –_

_*fuck me*..._

 

 

Your face is not looking sarcastic any more - you're in a state of bliss, because of _me_ , because of me fucking you, taking you, holding you - and I lift my hand off your back, grasp your other hip, start pushing you onto my cock as I'm moving inside you, nearly losing my senses as I pound into you, your luscious arse, mine mine mine... "Jim - _fuck_ , Jim - "

That's all I can say, all I can think, before I explode, explode into pure sensation, electricity blasting through me from the epicentre of my cock - "God - _Jim_..."

 

 

_You pump yourself into me, coming long and hard. I feel you press yourself against my back, panting and wrapping your arms around me._

_I feel you start to shrink inside me and slowly pull out._

_Then you lift me up and turn me around to sit on the couch._

_I look down at you, kneeling at my feet. I grab your head and push it down firmly to my crotch._

 

_"Mr Moriarty?" the voice of one of my men calls loudly from the location of the secret doorway. "I'm so sorry to interrupt you, Sir..."_

_I start laughing maniacally, and you lift your head in alarm._

_"Oh, please do interrupt! This. Will. Be. *Funny*."_

 

_"I'm sorry Sir, but I have someone on the phone who I think you'll want to talk to? It's Mr Pott... and he says you'll regret it if you don't take the call."_

 

 


	13. Heist. Fuck. Refuel. Epic fuck.

I raise my eyebrows at you. This is the worst timing imaginable, but you probably _do_ want to take this call.

I lick my lips. “After...” I mouth.

 

 

_I laugh again, but this time the sound is far more cunning._

_"Why would you stop, Tiger?" I ask idly, and gesture back to my cock with my head. You give me a bemused look, and start sucking me._

_"What are you waiting for?" I call out. "Apparently I'll regret it if I don't take this call..."_

_The man enters the room, looking everywhere but me and the Tiger performing magnificent fellatio on me._

_He stammers apologies, and I reach out my hand. "Get out," I snap._

_He drops the phone in my hand and hightails it from the room._

_I can feel your eyes on me, and I look down to smile at you and caress your hair before speaking into the phone._

_“Moriarty speaking. The real Moriarty, if that’s not clear. Oh - were you calling to speak to the other one?” I purr, sounding extremely relaxed._

 

 

Oh you _would_ \- I can’t help a grin as I’m back on your cock. You are the absolute ruler of every situation you are in, and if you want your cock sucked while you’re on the phone with the guy who’s been trying to get you killed, that’s what will happen.

I’m keeping up a nice rhythm, not going all out - wouldn’t want to distract you _too_ much, now...

 

 

_"This is Francis Pott..." a cold voice says. The New York accent is less pronounced compared to the other gentlemen's; in fact, I can hear the Irish undertones more strongly. As if someone had moved to America years ago... and did his best to tone down his native accent so as not to alienate his cronies... but keep enough of it to enchant the Irish mobsters who had never set foot in Ireland... so he could one day climb to the top._

_Right, Francis... I got that in four words. What else do you want to reveal to me?_

 

_"Oh, I've heard all about you," I say in a pleasant voice. "You've been busy as a bee..."_

_I stop talking and relish the tension I feel across the phone line._

 

_"Yeah? I hear you been busy too..."_

 

_"Not extraordinarily, no..." I say sounding confused, then aside to you, "You can go a bit harder, darling... this won't take long."_

 

_"What??" Mr Pott says, sounding taken aback._

 

_I chuckle ."Not you."_

 

_"What - are you playing at?" he demands._

 

_"You called me, remember? Did you just want to introduce yourself? It's been a pleasure," I sigh, as I feel the magic of your lips on my cock._

 

 

Oh my god, you incredible legend... I go a bit harder, as you desire, as I listen to your conversation with this guy. I wish I could rush through the phone line to get him... knock his head off his fucking shoulders... trying to fucking _poison_ you... and if you hadn't thought about my dog tags, and I about my phone - there would have been nothing I could have done - no way I could have protected you - god... I moan softly.

 

 

_"Four of my guys can't be reached. Are you saying you had nothing to do with that?" he demands._

 

_"How can I speak for your men? Perhaps they're sight-seeing - so much to see in London, have you ever been?" I manage to keep my voice steady, but I know I won't be able to for long._

 

_"No, but maybe I should book a flight right now and see some of those sights..." he growls._

 

_"I think you *should* book a flight... and I'd be happy to show you some choice sights," I say. "Of course, some places should be avoided. They make it *so* obvious that you're just a tourist, Francis..." Danger delicately threads through my words, and feels just as good as the epic blow job I'm receiving._

_“Mmm… *Tiger*..." I murmur._

 

 

Your voice makes me shiver. That current of danger... doesn't he _hear_ it? How isn't he shitting his fucking pants right now? Then you speak my name (well, Tiger, which is as much my name as Sebastian - I think I've heard the former more often) and I feel a tremble slowly move from my head to my toes. It makes me shiver anyway when you speak my name, but in _that_ voice - what must be your killer voice? It's - terrifying, exciting, enchanting - god, Jim...

I look up at you, you're looking so calm, so at ease - this is when you're in your element, playing a deadly game, dancing on that razor's edge...

 

 

_"Oh, I'm a tourist? I'm a tourist who got his hands on the coordinates of the so-called most dangerous man in London! *And* made his bodyguard forget his own name! Is that Moran there with you? Give him a kiss for me," he says snidely._

 

_Red hot rage pours through me, but that's *exactly* what this fucker wants... So I siphon it into my bunker with the rest of my exiled feelings. I can feel the walls stretch, hear the sound of pressurized metal and stone, and then... the contents settle. I exhale._

_"Speaking of kisses - he's doing some of his best work, and I'm being terribly rude. It's been *so* lovely getting to know you. Have yourself a pleasurable evening - I intend to."_

 

_"Whoa-" he says, tension rising in his voice. "The reason I called is to say, things can still turn out all right. My partners have the go-ahead to deal on my behalf - I think you'll find the new deal on the table is more than fair to both sides. Is the party still on?"_

_There's a pregnant pause. I count to five, listening to his breathing quicken._

 

_"Oh, I already have my dancing shoes picked out..." I chuckle. "I'm just sorry you won't be there to take a spin around the warehouse. Your name would be first on my dance card... Francis..." I murmur seductively, and furiously hit the hang-up button._

_I drop the phone on the floor with a clatter._

_"I'm ready to come, Tiger..." I whisper, placing my hands on your head and closing my eyes._

 

 

You are tensing - barely perceptibly, but there is something - the guy is making you angry - oh Francis Pott, you are _so_ dead...

But then your call is over, and you're ready to come, and that's all I've been waiting for - plans for Mr Pott can come later; I have a Jim who needs an orgasm, and whatever Jim needs is mine to provide, and I can provide it so well...

I really go for it now, your hand on my head just resting, not guiding my movements, but feeling good - intimate, in control.

It doesn't take long for your fingers to dig into my head, your head to move back, your breath to get fast and shallow, your cock to stiffen even further, your balls to contract - and I'm rewarded for my efforts, hot and warm and fast, and I swallow all you give me, keep licking and caressing you until I'm sure I've depleted you of every drop of need and desire, then I get up off my knees and settle myself on the sofa next to you.

"What did the dead man want?"

 

 

_“Want? Head games, my dear - he fancies himself the cat. He wants me angry, reckless, hell-bent on revenge... he wants to know I’m on his string, so he can pull me where he wants me to be...” I muse. “The coordinates of his choosing...”_

_“What?” You ask, your brow furrowing._

_“When I got *him* angry... he said coordinates. Not *addresses*. Not *locations*. Could he have...?” I reach for my jacket in a heap on the floor, and pluck out my phone. I eye it suspiciously, and hand it to you. “Smash this and yours, too. And throw them in the sewer. Burner phones only until he’s dead. Until everyone’s *dead*.” I lean in and kiss you passionately. “That was magnificent, Tiger. I can’t wait to ravage you when we get to a safe location - but this isn’t it. Anywhere we’ve been with our phones is not safe. Get up, we’re going *now*,” I say in a lazy voice, getting up and getting dressed. “Tell the men to get out, too. Leave McGinty’s corpse as a present for whoever shows up.” I grin at you. “The rat’s on the move. Ready to set a trap, Tiger?”_

 

 

"Most certainly, Boss," I grin.

I take our phones. "I'm not going to smash them - let's wipe them, then get a cab and lose them down the backseat. They'll see us moving all through London, going to a certain address every night - good luck working out what we're up to."

I send myself the information on the drug, wipe my phone, then yours, slide them into my pocket. "So the whole thing about the driver was a ruse?"

"Yeah," you exhale. "Those guys believed it - Pott must have kept the mobile phone tracking secret from his men, probably because he tracks them as well, so he got someone to act as the driver." You scowl, then turn and walk towards the front door.

I go through to the secret room, shoot McGinty, tell the other guys to scram, join you in the hallway.

"Lead the way, Boss..."

Because wherever the way leads, I'm right behind you.

 

 

_“All right... so we’ll go to yet another apartment, and have our things picked up and delivered there - all very strategically of course. Wouldn’t want anyone to follow our luggage like a trail of breadcrumbs... my goodness, Tiger. This has been *quite* a day of twists and turns...” I muse as we walk towards the exit. “I do look forward to returning home when all this is done... but we can still have that lovely shower I’ve been looking forward to since killing my cousin. Oh, I nearly forgot about that - I killed my cousin! Such a rollercoaster of a day...”_

_I stroll with you towards the street, watching you go into high alert as we approach a cab. We slide into the back, and I watch with amusement as you slip one phone in between seat cushions. “This was a very good idea, darling... Why don’t we take a second cab for the other one? They’ll think we split up... “_

_I grin at you. “Are you hungry, Tiger? I could *kill* for some Thai takeaway...”_

 

 

"I think they accept credit card," I reply absent-mindedly. "Jim - do you think - if they could track both our phones - must they have had access to them at some point? Or - is that something that they could hack up? And if they did - do you think it's likely that they may have had access to the data as well? Recorded phone calls? Read texts? Monitored emails?" The mind boggles.

 

 

_"Well, hacking the phones is certainly within the realm of possibility. How easy is it for someone to get their hands on them physically? Mine's always with me, even in the bathroom or next to me as I sleep. No one that I've dealt with so far gives me any confidence in their mastermind abilities... Unless they're pretending to be less intelligent than they are, but I didn't have that impression. I'm guessing they just met the right person with the right set of skills, and pointed them in the right direction based on what they knew of us. We've certainly had enough dealings with them in the months leading up to this deal going down..." I muse._

_"This is going to take some massive clean-up to make sure there are no loose ends. And obviously counter-intelligence measures to make sure this doesn't happen again. Do you want spring rolls or mango salad?" I point to the Thai restaurant coming up at the left. "Stop here, please..."_

 

 

"Yes, sounds good..." I'm still thinking about the phones.

"So - they might have had access to all your files? Or have you got them heavily encrypted?" The thought is very scary...

"We were going to get takeaway, right? I'm keen to start reading up on that bloody drug... The title of the files was 'Lethe' - isn't that the underground river of forgetfulness in Greek mythology? Oh, great, why do I remember _that_?! My mum's name? I have no idea, but let me tell you about the Hellenic Underworld..." I sigh.

 

 

_The cab stops next to the restaurant and I throw some bills into the front seat. We step out and head towards the door._

_"Eton brat," I say with affection. "*Of course* you remember. God help you if you don't know the classical foundations of the western world... high society would crumble!"_

_We step into the restaurant, and I pass you a menu. "Yes, we're getting takeaway and reading up on the drug - But I want nothing traceable, just in case. No credit cards, no deliveries to an address. And we were also going to take a second cab to lose the second phone - *and* I need a moment to decide where we should go. I have no idea what information they may or may not have been able to access about our holdings. So you put in the order and I'll take a moment to think about our destination... Order me pad thai, spring rolls, and sticky rice with mango. And a ginger ale." I say absent-mindedly as I stare off into space and call up my mind-map._

 

 

It's funny - it's like I can physically see your consciousness retreat. You won't be available for human contact for a bit... I order the food, salivating at the smells in the restaurant. There should be an 'I'll have whatever I am smelling' option in restaurants...

OK, how does one pay for things? I open my wallet, look through - oh, that is a lot of cash. Good - means we won't have to use cards for stuff soon, unless we're going to do anything very expensive. And I'm sure one of your guys can get us more cash.

I glance around - everyone else who is waiting is on their phone, but all I have is an expensive slab of plastic. No worries - I can do waiting. Must have done a lot of it in my work... I assume sniping can get excessively boring before it gets very exciting for a few seconds. I wonder what made me choose that as a profession... Though you said I preferred to get up close and personal. That does seem more attractive...

The food is ready and I approach you. You still have that faraway look and I'm not going to disturb - I'll wait until you're ready.

 

 

_I snap out of mind-map mode, and see you watching me from a distance, plastic bags in hand._

_"I know just the spot. I had accounted for such a possibility. Hackers can't trace everything back to me, because not everything has a digital trail. This confuses the poor dears... that smells delicious. Let's go."_

_I flag down a cab. "Just two stops to make." I give the locations (intersections only), and at the first stop, I meet with one of my men and several suitcases are loaded into the cab. The second stops at a dark corner, and I lead you into an apartment building._

_"Not too fancy, Sebastian - you should feel right at home..." I remark, looking back at you._

_I use the key that had been slipped into an envelope and into a suitcase pocket by one of my trusted men... but even he didn't know the address, as the key was delivered to him by a realtor who held keys for me assigned only by letters - not addresses. Satisfied, I turn the key in the lock and we walk in, flipping on lights._

_It's fairly similar to the decoy apartment we had been in earlier. I drop onto the sofa._

_"I'm ravenous - pad thai, please!"_

 

I unload the food onto the table, find some trays, divide the fare onto them, open the fridge to check if it's stocked as well as the previous place, but unfortunately it's empty. There's a storage cupboard which has some unperishables - coffee and sugar, fortunately, and a bottle of red wine. I take it out, pour us both a glass - neither of our favourite, but it's better than nothing - and a glass of water.

I serve you your food, plunk onto the sofa next to you – god, I'm _starving_. I attack the dinner with gusto - it's really good.

 

 

_I’m using my sneaky chopsticks and stealing from your green curry chicken on rice. I’m far less amused when you steal bites of my spring rolls. Your amnesia makes you play dangerous games, Tiger..._

_“If things had gone differently in our lives, this could have been our apartment,” you muse, munching your latest stolen bite._

 

_I’m staring at my chopsticks, and wondering if it would still be considered playful if I stabbed you in the hand next time you reach for one - probably not._

_“*This*?” I repeat dubiously. “Not exactly reaching for the stars in this hypothetical life, are we? Well, I suppose,” I relent, “... if we were a lot younger and just starting out in our life of crime...” I glance at you, and feel swept away by your soft gaze. “What? You like the idea of sharing this plebeian hovel together in our 20’s?” My delivery starts out sarcastic and scathing, and somehow by the end, I’m feeling strangely breathless at your expression._

_My spring roll drops back on my plate as I lean in, take your face in my hands and kiss you with hunger._

 

 

Oh... oh you like this romantic scenario, do you? God, I'd love to have known you in your twenties... so young, so small, so beautiful... running back here after a successful heist... kissing and fucking after we got in...

"Well, this is _London_. We'd have to be pretty good 20-something criminals to afford an entire _apartment..._  so we'd have to be a step up from pickpockets, I guess. Robbers? You running out with the loot to where I am waiting on my bike, making a mad dash through London traffic, chased by the police, coming back here after we're sure we've lost them, counting our money and our shiny things... after the epic fuck to get rid of the adrenaline, of course..."

 

 

_"Darling, the Empire was well underway when I was 21. But this is another life we're talking about, is that right? And in this scenario we're robbers? I rather prefer 'cat burglars' or 'jewel thieves', but- same premise. Taking from the rich, making ourselves richer. Heist. Fuck. Refuel. Epic fuck..." I shove half a spring roll in your mouth and watch you chew._

 

 

"When did you start your empire?" I ask, curious. You must have started really young if it was underway at 21. But then I can't imagine you doing anything as frivolous as being a student or working in a shop...

 

 

_I can feel a shadow cross over me. Moriarty is keeping a close eye._

_"Seventeen... but a genius with ambitions to rule the world is not going to be doing regular seventeen-year-old things, is he? So -" *change topic* - "What else do you see us doing in this scenario? Going on picnics? Taking cooking classes together? Clubbing on weekends and getting invited to orgies?"_

 

 

I grin. "Heh - I don't know, what _do_ young criminals get up to these days? Probably a lot of clubbing, pills, and orgies, yeah... Both wearing black leather, getting matching tattoos, swearing we'll go out together like Bonnie and Clyde...

or alternatively, live like a very normal young couple to avoid attention - get a dog, walk it four times a day, be part of the neighbourhood improvement programme, invite the neighbours round for home-cooked Lebanese food..."

 

 

_I'm looking at you in horror. "Door number one, please... What tattoo would you have?" I push the remains of my pad thai onto your plate, and turn to my bowl of sticky rice and mango._

 

 

I'm now picturing you in black leather and a net vest, and I'm kind of distracted...

"What? Oh, tattoo... You know, I'm kind of surprised I don't have any. I seem like the kind of guy who would. Do you know why?"

 

 

_"Well, when you were in the army, I believe you couldn't have a tattoo anywhere visible back then. And then considering you were doing covert work for me, you probably assumed the same applied. Why? You want tattoos, future Lord Moran?" I look at you, taken aback._

 

 

"Ah, ok, that makes sense... though my scars do make me kind of more memorable than a tattoo would, and you never seemed to have a problem with _those_." I look pointedly at a scar on my arm that's blatantly yours. "I think I would like a tattoo, actually... something representing you." I'm as surprised as you seem to be when I hear the words leave my mouth.

 

 

_"What would represent me?" I ask, my curiosity and narcissism shoving aside my surprise, and running to the front of the queue._

 

 

I look at you. "I don't know... a giant M, apparently - I noticed that the other day when I was scratching my back," I grin. You have the decency to look a tiny bit sheepish for a second. "I'm sure that is _very_ inconspicuous... I assume it's what all the kids have these days.

Anyway, for a tattoo representing you... assuming it's something a bit more subtle than 'Property of James Moriarty', hmm... a magpie? I don't know why, but I saw you as a magpie quite early on already, it was just an image in my mind, like, the first night? Is that something that has anything to do with you, or is it just something that popped up?"

 

 

_I stare at you. "You've called me a magpie before... The first time was a night that we were very drunk - but that's neither here nor there. Magpie, huh... what's wrong with 'Property of James Moriarty'?" I grin._

 

 

"I assume that's already conveyed by the M... but sure, that can go under the magpie. _If_ you get a tiger," I grin.

 

 

_I choke-laugh. “*What*??"_

 

 

"Well, I said _matching_ tattoos. If I get a magpie with 'Property of James Moriarty', you should get a Tiger. No need for writing."

 

 

_"Yes, 'if' being the operative word..." I stare at you, my sticky rice forgotten. Are you serious??_

 

 

"You're looking like I've just suggested the most unheard-of thing ever - that's a bit rich from the person who _carved a giant fucking M in my back_ ," I smirk. "Or is this exclusively a one-way street?"

 

 

_"It was a very different time, Tiger..." I hear myself saying, like we were talking about the Roman era._

_"I *mean*... things were different before your amnesia... And yes, it *was* a one-way street!"_

 

 

I can see that... I can see it in the way I felt earlier - completely and utterly swept away by you, the intensity of your presence... yes, I can see how I would be totally in awe of you, and delighted by an M in my back - because it signifies a bond, even if it's only one way. Demonstrative ownership implies fondness...

"It's alright - no, really, it is, Jim. I don't know what I was like, what you were like, what _we_ were like, but - yes, I can imagine that dynamic. You are quite - overwhelming, awe-inspiring. I can imagine _anyone_ being totally overcome by you - and yes, any dynamic would be a one-way street, and it would have likely remained that way if I hadn't lost my memory. But because of that, my first encounter with you was not you in your death-god aspect, but with you as a shocked and concerned lover, so that's what I assumed you were - and because I didn't have that previous conditioning, I could see the love and attachment, and I was just bewildered as to why you wouldn't admit to it."

 

 

_"Oh god, Tiger - was that only two days ago? I wanted to throttle you... and you dragged it out of me anyway..." I laugh despite myself._

_And then I remember what I still haven't had time to process - when my cousin revealed to you about me killing my mother, you didn't falter. Not for an instant - you stepped into the ring so I could pull myself together. You *kept me together* even in the face of such a potentially devastating revelation... and I will never forget that - ever *ever*…_

_"I'll do it..." I say and kiss you deeply._

 

 

You're kissing me and I almost forget to kiss back - my body responds automatically - but my brain is screaming white noise and red alert. When the kiss breaks off - probably because I'm only half responding - I'm staring at you dumbfounded. "You would... I didn't mean... I thought we were just speaking hypothetically... you would actually get a _tattoo?!_ For _me?!_ "

Shock and delight are warring inside me. "You shouldn't - I mean, you needn't..."

 

 

_"You said you'd like one..." I murmur, kissing your neck. "I thought that meant for real - pending my approval, of course..."_

 

 

Oh my god. We're getting matching tattoos. It's the soppiest idea imaginable - for anyone else. For us - you, and me - it's so incredibly meaningful and badass and sweet and... god.

"Anything you like. Anywhere," I say, breathless. I'll have Property of Bloody James Moriarty if you like it - you're the one who has to look at it. And it's fucking hot. And true.

You're getting a Tiger tattoo. My Jim, with his pristine alabaster body, is going to get inked scars representing _me_. I'm floating a foot above the sofa. Any drugs, assassination attempts, New York crime bosses are forgotten. I'm picturing different tigers and different locations on your body and probably beaming like mad.

 

 

_"You haven't known who you are for two days... and you still showed absolute loyalty... love... devotion..." I kiss my way up your neck. "Obedience - mmm, close, but not perfect. You didn't listen to a word I said about not having sex when you were recovering... and you refused to keep the blanket on..."_

_I *tsk* and kiss my way up your face._

_"I'm a psychopath and a total nightmare - and you gave me unconditional love, anyway? You're *mad*, Sebastian Moran. I'm lucky to have found you." I take your face in my hands. "I would have liked to have known you when I was young, Sebastian - life would have felt quite different, I think. But if we can't give ourselves that past, then - we can at least bring something from it into our present. You imagined our younger selves all badass with tattoos? I'd say we have *badass* down. Tattoos are easy enough - it'll be on my back, because you've got my back. You can look at it when you fuck me." My voice is getting breathy, and I've gone back to kissing your face, and down to your ear. "Would you like that?"_

 

 

I’m still flabbergasted. You’re getting a Tiger on your back. I can look at it when I fuck you.

I’m not sure which of these images is scrambling my brain more.

“I’m... I’d...

 _yes_ ,” I manage.

 

 

_“And you, darling? You’ve settled on a magpie? It’s not exactly fierce or lethal...” I roll my eyes, but I grin at you. “Where will you get it?”_

 

 

“Would you rather I get something else? I’m serious - you have known me and yourself much longer than I have. What would you say represents you better?”

 

 

_“Oh - no, Sebbie! I was only joking,” I assure you. “I like it. You came up with it - so it’s meaningful. I used to think of myself as a spider on a web, controlling the threads - but seeing a spider tattoo on you *really* wouldn’t be the same. That’s not what I want. I want you to get one that shows how *you* see me...So - magpie?” I kiss your lips sweetly._

 

 

"I can see you as a spider, yes - but you're too attractive. I am not sure how I'd get a tattoo of an attractive spider. Cool! When can we get it?" I feel like an excited puppy now. Surely there's a tattoo parlour around here?

Calm your horses, Tiger, you want to find a good one. This is something permanent - you don't want to be looking at a wonky tiger every time you fuck Jim.

Every time... forever...

I'm seeing us, both grey-haired, your skin a bit more wrinkled but still beautiful, the tiger on your back...

Forever... forever with you...

I grab your hand, suddenly choking up, kiss it. "I love you..."

 

 

_I'm watching your face go from excited to moved to something Very Big. And the significance finally hits me - the permanence of tattoos. This isn't just some fanciful daydream, this is..._

_You're kissing my hand with tears in your eyes, telling me you love me. It feels like an age since I said the words to you. Why is it still so hard? I think of everything that we've experienced since your memory loss, the bond we've formed. Not just formed - *forged*. There's no coming back from that..._

_I press my forehead to yours. "I love you too, Sebastian. Now start taking off these clothes, and don't stop until they're all gone. No more clothes for the rest of the night. That's an order."_

 

 

Al _right_. I can live with that. No tattoos tonight, just epic sex. And - you saying you love me... I know how hard it is for you, but you're doing it for _me_ , and it's true - of course it's true...

But - orders... I love orders... especially when they lead to sex. The army was rather disappointing in that respect.

"Yes, Sir," I grin, and start removing my... oh. Boots. Yes. Sorry Jim. I swear the rest will be more sensuous than me undoing laces.

 

 

_I think I see disappointment flit across your face before you get to work on your boots._

_"Aww, Tiger… Were you hoping we'd go out and get tattoos tonight?" I ask, grinning. "I'll want to find the very best artist and give them time to create something stunning. Even if we have to fly to another country, I don't care - it's got to be the best. You understand, don't you?" I take your hand and kiss it. "I'm guessing 20-something Sebastian would have been an impulsive sort of fellow. But I also suspect the promise of sex would have turned his head..."_

_I stand up and remove my jacket, throw it on the armrest. Then I slowly unbutton my shirt as I head to the bathroom, and throw it on the floor. I disappear into the bathroom. My trousers come flying out the door and my pants and socks soon follow._

 

 

No - oh no you're absolutely right, I realize we need to get the best person for this - I want this to be stunning -

But before I get the chance to say anything, your jacket is going, and as I open my mouth, the buttons of your shirt are slowly revealing more and more skin, and then you are gone from sight but your clothes are being flung out of the bathroom -

I muscle off my boots, get the rest of my clothes off as fast as I can, and rush to the bathroom to see what you're up to.

 

 

_I'm in the shower waiting for you when you burst in._

_I can see by your expression it's just as sensual as I imagine - me naked, water running down my face and body. I'm lathering myself with soap, very slowly - running my hands down my torso, down to my pelvis, and then I'm touching my cock with a soapy hand._

_I'm staring at you while I touch myself, and I smile to see how you've frozen on the spot. I make a come hither gesture with my finger, and then I lick that finger - and that seems to shock you out of your catatonic state. You lurch into the shower and I think you would have done so even with clothes on._

_You move towards me and I stop you by touching your chest firmly with my finger._

_I push you towards the tiled wall, and I look up at your face._

_"My turn..." I whisper._

_I plaster myself against you, and kiss you feverishly._

 

 

 _Holy_...

fuck...

There is a vision of beauty behind a mist of droplets, gleaming white lines on white skin, smooth hands running over a slick body, moving to a magnificent cock, proudly pointing at me. The vision motions to me to come hither, and my legs obey of their own accord, pouncing onto the vision before it disappears.

The vision stops the almighty Tiger pounce with just the one finger of its mighty hand... and I'm against the wall, being kissed, your slithery body touching mine in so many significant places, your mouth claiming mine, and I groan...

My hands come up to slide over your back, so smooth and slippery with soap and water, and I pull you closer, my Jim, my vision of elegance and glamour, my prince of darkness, my god of sex...

 

 

_*Tiger*…_

_I have waited a very long time for you._

_I didn't think I was waiting, of course. I didn't think I needed anything that I couldn't obtain myself, one way or another._

_I certainly didn't need anyone, except to bring me the things I desired._

_Resources, information, amusement, violent catharsis..._

_once in a while, pleasure..._

_rarer still, challenge._

_But you - *you* are a category unto yourself, Tiger._

_A law unto yourself - and I thought I was the only one..._

_The only one capable of touching me, the real me, without burning away into ash._

_The only one who can see my true face and live._

_I didn't realize I was longing to be seen..._

_hungering to be touched..._

_you give me this gift, and I don't feel weaker for being seen or touched. With you I'm stronger - which is what you've been telling me all along._

_Clever Tiger..._

_You're the only one who understands who I am and what I need._

_And now I finally know - I never want to be apart from you._

_So when I kiss you - however this started out, now there is no more artifice._

_There is just hunger for you._

_My tongue slides into your mouth, and I feel you sag against me, moaning._

_Oh *fuck yes*, Tiger..._

_"You wanted me, and you got me. I want *you*, Tiger - and there is *no coming back from that*…" I warn you, intoxication pouring through me._

_"You were mine before, but we barely skimmed the surface. Now we're going to dive deep, my darling... so take a big breath, because we're not surfacing for a good long while." I cup your balls in one hand, and the other curls around your neck._

_I bring your head down into a deep kiss, plunging my tongue into your mouth again and again until we're both moaning against each other's lips._

 

 

Like I ever would want to come back from this... from you... I have no idea what life was like beforehand, but I know I must have adored you. And I still do, but now you do seem to adore me back. Or... no, that's not our dynamic. But - need me, love me, appreciate me... certainly...

Diving deep? Bring it _on_ , baby. After the day we've had - which was mental - but great - I guess we both need something to blow off steam, to calm our minds... and there's nothing that calms my mind as much as a wet sleek Jim...

And then your hard hands are on my soft tissue and my mind goes very still indeed... And your tongue is in my mouth, and there is nothing else but these three things. Hand around my balls. Hand around my neck. Tongue around my tongue.

Jim...

 

 

_Oh god, Tiger..._

_I fondle your balls, and the symbolism of holding them in my hand is *not* lost on me. Or you, by the look of it._

_I move my hand to your hard cock, and lightly trail my fingers along it. You moan and push yourself against my hand. I smile and kiss you harder as I grind my hand against you._

_And things - *heat – up* - your tongue is in my mouth, and your hands are *everywhere*..._

_“Slow down, Tiger...” I breathe. “I want to take my time...”_

_I pull back and look into your blue eyes, and there’s that familiar jolt of electricity setting me ablaze._

_“Fuck it,” I mutter, and shove my way through the shower door, pulling you by the arms. I grab a bottle of body wash and throw it on the floor. Then our lips are devouring each other, and we’re falling in a heap on the bathroom mat. I manage to turn you around, which is no easy feat as you’re still apparently feeling aggressive, and don’t want to stop kissing me._

_“*Down*,” I snarl, and you look at me for just an instant before you obey. I shove your chest and face into the plush mat, and yank your hips up. I smack your arse hard._

_“*My turn*, I said...” My voice is a purr, but there’s steeliness underneath._

_I squirt some body wash into my palm, and rub it against my cock. My slick fingers push into you firmly. When you’re moaning under my ministrations, I withdraw them and my cock is poised against your entrance._

_I pause and move my hand along your back. “I want you, Tiger - always...” I say breathily. And then I push into you partway, withdraw, and push in harder._

 

 

Slow down. Sure. Yes. Slow down. I can do that.

... just until you look into my eyes, a spark flies through the shower, and we're in a tangle of limbs on the floor. I'm completely engrossed in kissing you, but Dominant Jim appears and tells me to get _Down_ and it only takes a second for my body to recognize an order and to follow it. Even when my mind is completely offline, a Moriarty order is obeyed...

I find myself with my face in the bath mat, your fingers pushing inside me - oh god yes... god your fingers are magical...

And soon, your cock, the main prize, pushing into me, into my willing, welcoming arse... I don't think I ever _don't_ want you... have I always been like that? It kind of seemed like it, from what you've said... But how could I not, when you're _so. fucking. hot._

I groan as you push deeper, my hands digging into the bath mat - breathe, Tiger - oh god Jim that feels - good...

"God... fuck me... I'm yours, I'm yours, always... please Sir... make me feel it..."

 

 

_I'm burying myself in your arse, withdrawing and pushing deeper._

_Fuck me, you feel so good... my majestic, submissive Tiger..._

_I grasp your hair with one hand, pulling your head back. You're on your elbows, your neck straining back._

_My other hand is cupping your magnificent arse._

_"Did you enjoy claiming my body, Tiger?" I purr. "Did it give you pleasure to have me submit?"_

_My fingers wind in your hair, and pull back harder._

_"Answer me," I whisper, suddenly leaning close to your ear._

 

 

I can’t recall - I can’t imagine - all I could possibly enjoy is this, here, now...

I’m trying to concentrate - yes, I did at the time - god, yes...

“Yes, Sir, it was great...” I pant.

 

 

_“Great?” I repeat, and chuckle. “It must have been *truly* great if you’re at such a loss for words... or perhaps you’re distracted by other things...” I thrust into you deeply while groping your arse cheek. Your moans are like the sweetest wine. “It’s understandable...” I move my hand down to your balls, and start to caress them._

_"So much going on today, it’s easy to get preoccupied... but when I ask you a question, it’s because I’m looking for information - it might be delivered by spoken word, or through your voice or your expression.” I snap my hips, driving into you harder. “Either way, all that answer told me was that you didn’t want to bother focusing so you could give me something real.” My hand tightens gently on your balls. “One more try, Tiger - and now I want *more*. How does it feel when I submit to you?” I ask in a silky voice, before I yank you back against me and grind my cock into you. The groans that follow indicate to me that I’ve hit your sweet spot. I smile somewhat deliriously and grind into you harder._

 

 

God - no - please - Jim -

How am I supposed to concentrate on an answer if you're fucking me... can we do the interrogation at another time? Like _any_ time when you're not fucking me, fucking me hard, fucking me good, fucking me... so... fucking... perfectly...

Oh god you're squeezing my balls and I'd better answer or this might get _painful_ \- shit -

Right Tiger - you can do this. Don't concentrate on the distracting sensations. The question. The question was 'how does it feel when Jim submits to me?'

Well - differently than this feels... and this feels so...

_Stop it..._

"It's - _fuckkk_ \- it feels amazing, Sir... You're so beautiful, so majestic, so - divine, almost... feeling your body yield to mine is... surreal, almost... and it feels _so_ good... your body feels great, anyway, but the fact that it's _you_ \- and the way I saw you today, so in charge of the situation... so powerful... and then _I_ get to take you, get to overpower that formidable irresistible man... it's intoxicating..."

 

 

_My hand releases its grip on your balls, and slides up your cock. I stroke gently._

_"Now. *That* was an answer. A very fine answer..." I murmur. "And now you've pleased me, and we can proceed. Would you like that?"_

_I pull you back against my cock, and *god*, the fucking *sound* you make..._

_"Yes - please - *fuck me* - " you moan loudly._

_I grin to myself. "Well of course I'm going to fuck you, Tiger - was that even a question?" I drive myself deeply into you, and increase my speed._

_"I should like very much for us to come together, darling..." I pant, stroking your cock firmly. "If you could oblige me, I would be ever so pleased..."_

_I begin to moan as I plunge into you again and again._

_"Oh *god*, Tiger... you feel magnificent..."_

 

 

Thank _god_ the examination is over and I can concentrate on the fuck... which is magnificent, sublime... how can anything feel _so good_? How can people do _anything_ else when they could be doing this?! Why aren't people just fucking all the time? I know what I'm going to be doing with the rest of my life...

Your cock pounding into me, combined with your hand stroking my cock, drives me crazy... I can hardly restrain myself from coming, but you want to come together, so calm down, Tiger... heh... I'm calling myself Tiger now... well, it's a fun name... Oh god Jim please - please come soon... I can't be expected to bear this ecstasy for much longer...

 

 

_I can hear in your gasps and your groans how much you want this... My eyelids flutter shut._

_“Close, Tiger...” I whisper. “So very – very -“ I cut myself off with a loud moan and start pounding into you._

_“Oh, *fuck*...” I breathe, my ears filling with the sound of our bodies slamming together and your gorgeous animal noises, *Jesus*, you’re a beautiful thing and you’re *mine* to take, *mine* to pleasure myself with, however I desire..._

_“Come, Tiger,” I gasp. “Come* with me, *now... fuck*!”_

_Your shudders begin before mine, and I let go, let go, and start to keen._

 

 

The world disappears - there is only this bath mat under my hands, the orange spots I'm seeing behind my eyes as I'm screwing them shut, the orchestra playing a divine symphony heavy on the cannons in my head, and the feeling... oh god the _feeling_... in my cock - _SO. FUCKING. GOOD._

I writhe and moan, barely able to take the intensity of it - I think I roar as I come into your hand, over the bath mat, and as my head flies back I feel your fingers tremble, your cock jump, your warm seed spilling into me, as you make the most otherworldly sound...

"Jim... oh god Jim... fuck..."

I'm gasping for breath, and I notice tears have escaped my eyes from the sheer vehemence of my orgasm.

 

 

_My shivering and my orgasmic cry seem to go on forever, and then I find myself collapsed on you in a damp, trembling heap._

_We're both breathing like we've been running a marathon, unable to move._

_When I try to lift myself to pull out of you, I slip on your sweaty back and knock my jaw into your shoulder._

_"Fuck," I exclaim, and when you look over your shoulder to see if I'm OK, I fall off to the side._

_Then you're sitting up and laughing and I'm looking at you indignantly from the bath mat - but your smile is so beaming and your laughter so infectious, I actually find myself giggling._

_You pull me up into your lap and collectively we're a wet, sticky mess - but we're just inches away from the shower, and oh hell, it was worth it._

_My legs are wrapped around your waist, my arms are loosely draped over your shoulders, and we're kissing - *kissing* - as if we haven't just been having a spectacular fuck on the bathroom floor - kissing so slowly and deeply and soulfully... I don't know what the fuck is going on, I really don't. But the kissing continues as we bathe each other in the shower, and then as we climb naked into bed._

_It feels strange being in an unfamiliar environment, and stranger still when I realize I feel like I'm home because I'm with you._

_Seriously - *what the fuck is going on*? I wonder as we give each other butterfly kisses, whisper 'I love you' and resume making out._

 

 

 

 

 


	14. In My Blood And My Bones

God I just can't get enough of you - all of you, not just your body, though I can feel my cock just gently nudging me to tell me that it wouldn't mind getting involved in sexy times again if I were so inclined, but every aspect of... you. You fascinate me endlessly - I realize I want to know about you much more than about myself. And you make my heart feel funny and my stomach feel odd and my knees go weak and my throat constrict - I have reverted to a teenager who's in love for the first time, because - well, I am. Not a teenager, but as far as I know I've never been in love. I can't imagine ever having felt this intensely before...

And you're so _sweet_. You're stroking, kissing, fondling, sucking, ok, biting a bit, but it feels so great and makes me moan with delight, so I'm sure you realize how much it's appreciated...

"Jim..." I whisper, "You said you weren't like this... are you sure? It feels so... natural, so right - I can't imagine we never did this before..."

 

 

_I fall back against the pillow, groaning and covering my face with my hands. "I'm completely not like this, and it *feels* like there's someone constantly watching me, disapproving of me, *furious* at me... why do you think I keep freaking out every time we fuck? The more I feel, the closer I get to a meltdown. It's mad torture in moments, I don't even know how to explain it - it's like I'm breaking a taboo, and it could be catastrophic, and everything is being so closely monitored... evidence is being gathered, but for what purpose, I have no idea! And I don't even want to know!!_

_I wish things were simpler, Sebastian - I really do. It feels... good. To feel good. To feel *anything* - but it's also the most fucking uncomfortable thing I've experienced... well, in a very long time." I look at you from the pillow. "So, no - We certainly did *not* do anything like this before. *God*... it still feels mad that it *did* happen. It shouldn't have been possible... this amnesia of yours was a variable I could never have anticipated._

_Speaking of which, do you want to do any research on the drug tonight or... leave it until morning? It's *your* head, my darling Tiger..." I lean on my elbow and smile before kissing you sweetly._

 

 

I prop myself up on an elbow. "Right - first thing, you did _not_ freak out when we fucked just now. So it's getting less - I hope. Or was it something else?

Second - someone watching you, gathering evidence, getting furious? What is that, like - your Mr Hyde? Who's Mr Hyde? I'm not sure where that came from... Anyway - like another side of you?"

 

 

_"Well, maybe this is the freak-out now! Although in the decoy apartment, you fucked me and nothing happened after I came. Hm. To be assessed..." I tap my fingers against my mouth. "Perhaps it will require a series of experiments - where we undertake different sex acts and games - and see how I react to them... I think I would enjoy that... "_

_"As to the second point - you could call it Mr Hyde, except that I was *all* Hyde before. Or close enough. It's more like Dr Jekyll emerged because of you - can you imagine how disconcerting that is... I don't know who this *person* is that I find myself becoming. Well, maybe you *can* understand something of that... And I have no idea where the Jekyll side came from! Has he always been there, trapped in a psychopathic prison? Is he someone *new*?" I shrug, my brow furrowing._

_"Anyway. The Hyde part - Moriarty - feels like he's in the background instead of the foreground. It's like he got demoted from CEO of the entire Empire to VP of Psychopathic Functioning... how well do you think a psychopath would take that? I feel like he's just waiting for his moment when I'm feeling weak - and he'll take over and do what he wants, even if that hurts you. Or *especially* if that hurts you - I'm guessing you're number two on his shit list, after *me*... after all, I was the one who was weak enough to succumb to your charms - which are numerous and adorable, and I don't know what else I was supposed to do in the face of that," I huff._

 

 

I’m all in favour of experimenting with different sex acts, but the rest of your words are worrying.

 _My Jim is under threat. Must eliminate threat_ is my immediate response, which isn’t very helpful in light of the nature of the threat.

“I have trouble picturing you like that... I’ve seen your cruel side, but it was - _you_ , just showing another side. I could still see you there, and I had no worries that you wouldn’t be you when we were alone.

So - you were always cruel, cold, distant - is that what you’re saying? I find that so hard to imagine - you’re so passionate! And - this - _side_ of you, whatever it is, only came out because I... forced you to say you loved me? And it’s a side of you that you completely didn’t know before?”

It’s even harder to get my head round than the memory loss...

 

 

_I ponder this. “Not completely accurate. I suppose I was aware of this side of me on *some* level - because it would slip out here and there, and could stay on for a bit if it wasn’t a threat to the existing order. But around you, I mostly was on guard. Because you’re funny and good for a laugh and... too much silliness could lead to feelings. You’re *so* hot and... we were just going at it all the time, and I’m well aware that sex could lead to feelings, too. Not that that was ever an issue for me before. But with you - I recognized that it could be a disaster. Well, the disaster happened - the jar broke, and feelings got *everywhere*. There’s no cleaning the mess out of the carpet now...” I roll my eyes, but plant a kiss on your lips._

_“Before your amnesia, I was mostly distant... often cold. Often cruel. And - you have a hard time picturing what I was like? You *met* him. Within a couple of minutes, you asked what the fuck was wrong with me and had me in a hold with your knee in my back. Did you particularly like that gentleman? You just had a *taste*, darling. I was pissed off, but I wasn’t... how I can get. Terrifying. Vicious. *Unstable*.”_

 

 

“So... you were aware that you might develop feelings for me, and you were afraid of that? Why?!”

 

 

_"None of this was really a conscious decision, Sebastian! It was based on a lifetime of avoiding anything that could inspire feelings or connections with people. Because I - I don't really want to get into details... but suffice it to say, I suffered some trauma growing up. And - I shut down emotionally. As in, *completely*. I thought my emotional self had wasted away, but I guess I was locked up good and tight. And there I stayed safe and sound for more than twenty years. Until I was lured out by a tricky Tiger... apparently there was a hole in the barbed wire fence, and I have no idea how it got there... the guards had been so *vigilant* up until then. Perhaps someone snuck a sleeping potion into their tea... or clubbed them and went after the fence with wire cutters." I look at you in mock suspicion. "This drug made you quite the miscreant, Sebastian..."_

 

 

I chuckle. "It sounds more like you've had the drug..." But your words cut through me. You suffered trauma as a child that was _so bad_ that you completely shut down?

_Someone hurt my Jim. Must kill._

It appears that I have a _very_ protective core personality. Which is probably good for a bodyguard, but right now it means that I feel awful, because I _can't_ protect you from your past. I'm picturing you young, alone, hurt, scared... and it cuts me, my stomach wrenches, and I _have_ to hold you.

And if you've re-opened yourself to emotions because of _me_... that means it's my responsibility to keep you safe emotionally as well as physically, right? So how do I do that, I who don't even know anything that happened before a few days ago? And what if this other side of you comes out, like you seem to fear? How am I supposed to protect you against _him?!_

I don't know any of the answers... I can only hold you closer.

 

 

_Wrapped in your arms, I rest my head against your shoulder and sigh. "I'm looking forward to going home... I never really thought of it as home before - just a place with my things, where I worked and slept. Where you and I did... everything we did. The apartment feels different now - now that we've watched films and had a bath. Is that all it took? Oh yes, the love thing. That was probably a bigger factor." I cuddle into your chest._

_"Tomorrow will be a big day, getting all this New York business settled once and for all. Do you want to get a head start researching this drug, or are you knackered?"_

 

 

“I... would like to talk more, if you’re up to it?

You said earlier that you’re getting closer to a meltdown, that your... other side... is aiming to take back control, and you’re scared he will hurt you, and me...

How should I respond, if that happens? It’s a realistic threat, and I want to be prepared...”

 

 

_"How should you respond? Christ, I don't know... I was always on the other side of it, wasn't I?_

_Sometimes you would just leave, if I was getting out of control. More often you stayed to watch me, but then you'd usually get hurt. You didn't really care about being physically hurt, but - I know getting hurt emotionally was a whole other story. I don't want that... I don't want to do that to you." Waves of pain and guilt pass through me, and I wince. Fuck. This is not getting any easier. I've barely scratched the surface, have I..._

_"Sometimes you would make me calm down by overpowering me physically. Or sexually..." I think back, remembering. A slow smile crosses my face. "You did get hurt a few times using that approach, but it didn't seem to trouble you any - or slow you down." My lips quirk._

_"I don't know what else to tell you, quite honestly. Just know whatever I say that's hurtful is *meant* to push you away. I don't mean it, and it's not real. But this side of me is vicious and has no moral compass - he'll say or do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is to be queen of the mountain again."_

_I keep saying 'he', but deep down I know it's actually just me. I'm afraid of what *I* might do... I'm afraid *I* will hurt you._

_But oh god, I'm not ready for you to think of me this way... I don't think I could take the guilt..._

 

 

You seem so upset at the memory of... other you... I have no idea what to expect. But I’m not afraid. And I want to reassure you, though I don’t know how...

“Jim...” I stroke your face, seeing you wince.

“Jim. Whatever happens... I promise you I’ll stay.” I see you look at me at that, and I see the flash of fear and hope in your eyes.

“I don’t know what you may do or become... and I may not like it. But I’m not leaving you. I am yours, I always have been. It’s in my blood and my bones... it’s stronger than anything. I’ve forgotten _everything_ , but I remember that. So - please don’t let yourself be worried about me leaving if you... turn. I never did before, even when you were just cold and cruel, so I definitely won’t now I’ve seen this side of you.

I’ll manage. And if you’re a dick - I’m bigger.”

You raise an eyebrow and look down. “I didn’t mean it like that! I _meant_ I am able to physically overpower you if you go too far,” I grin, glad that I got you smiling again.

“For now... I just want to hold you and love you while I can. I have never loved anyone, as far as I know, and I can’t get enough of being close to you, stroking you, kissing you... I’m sorry I brought up difficult stuff.

I’m sure the drug details can wait until tomorrow...”

I pull you close and enjoy the sensation of your lithe body against mine, stroke your hair as I softly kiss your lips.

 

 

_Tears start rolling down my cheeks as you kiss me. "I don't - know what I did to deserve you, Sebastian..." I find myself sniffling. "No, I do know - I did *nothing* to deserve you. You are the sweetest, loveliest Tiger in all the world. And honey, please... you don't have to apologize for being bigger..." I say as I wipe away my tears. "Why would I be upset about having such a... *fine* specimen of manhood to enjoy?"_

 

 

Oh god Jim - you're crying - don't cry Jim -

Tears spring in my eyes of their own accord - I'm pretty sure I had no say in this -

"Jim..." I whisper. "How can you doubt that you deserve me - you're the most intelligent, amazing, fascinating man I've ever encountered. OK - that's not very significant - the most impressive man I could imagine.

You... when I see you, I'm just - swept away. I would do _anything_. You're like - you don't have to _do_ anything to deserve me. Who you _are_ is more than enough. Because who you are, is - the man that I love. The man that I admire. The man I adore. It's hard to explain - it's like when I see you, I just want to be with you, protect you, fall to my knees and worship you. It's almost irrelevant what you do - as long as I get to be with you. I know that sounds weird - but it fits with what you told me about our relationship before. And - you have that effect on other people too. When I see how your men - our men - look at you... they don't see you as a man; they see you as a demon lord... they're terrified and fascinated by you.

I know that must be odd to hear - but there is something about you that seems not quite human. I felt it when I first saw you - that's how I remembered the desert; you reminded me of a serpent I'd seen in the desert. I know you _are_ human - I'm not trying to say you're not, but you cast a spell on people, babe, want it or not."

 

 

_"Oh, I want it, " I assure you, caressing your shoulder. "Why wouldn't I want it? And being other than human is hardly an insult, either... OK, so somehow I have a get out of jail free card in terms of all the terrible things I've done, because... I'm fascinating and amazing? And regardless of what I do even now, you want to adore me and worship me? Darling, you do realize this is narcissist crack, don't you? Surely you want to encourage me to try to be good to you? Because if I can coast on charm, sweetie - I'll coast on charm... Don't make it *too* easy on me, my sweet Tiger - I *will* take advantage... and I'd like to *think* I can be good to you..."_

 

 

Oh hold on, Mr Moriarty...

I move fast, have you underneath me with your wrists trapped in my hands in no time.

"Oh I'm not saying you should take _advantage_..." I grin.

"Look, you got a get out of jail free card regarding whatever you did before anyway, because I can't remember. You may have killed my puppy or have been a total saint - I have no idea. All that matters to me is what I see right now. And what I've seen so far is a fascinating and adorable man."

I lean down, kiss your forehead. "And if you remain like that - fine. If you don't - I'll not leave you, because I _do_ worship you. But if you decide to be a dick just for the hell of it, don't forget that your sweet Tiger is a large and dangerous predator that can kick your skinny arse any day of the week...

OK Boss? You're in charge because I worship you, not the other way round."

 

 

_My mouth drops open. Well. Consider me put in my place._

_I'm not sure what to do with that..._

_"*Skinny arse*? I most certainly do *not* have a skinny arse... I'd say my arse is one of my best features; one of *many*. I'm *lean*, not skinny. And I'm *fucking* toned. Look at me! Are you looking at me, Sebastian?" I demand._

 

 

"Oh I am..." I grin. "And I very much like what I'm seeing... you're lean, toned, muscular, graceful... absolutely fucking bewitching. But you're more than just a pretty package... you're a god walking among men, and I am your high priest, like I said. But that doesn't mean I'll not stand up against you if you're taking the piss.

So - just don't take the piss, and you'll have the best weapon in the world at your fingertips. And even you know that's not worth risking..."

I lean down again, kiss your lips, slide my hands off your wrists.

I don't want to stand up against you, every bit of instinct I have screams against it, tells me to just kneel and bow my head and take whatever you dish out, but it sounds like that is what I used to do, and you _did_ take the piss, so it might not be a bad idea to suggest a different dynamic.

 

 

_"And I'm not thrilled about this 'I'm in charge because you worship me' business... I'm in charge of every situation I'm in and sooner or later, people do what I want. You included. Should I apologize for that? That wouldn't be something a god among men would do. Although I *am* very sorry about your puppy," I say, sounding contrite. "He shouldn't have chewed on my Italian shoes."_

 

 

"OK - what I meant by you are in charge of me because I worship you... I'm a strong, capable soldier - I don't _have_ to do what you say. I could overwhelm you - I could kill you. I could probably get away with it, too, because you trust me. So - I am here, serving you, because I _choose_ to be, not because I am forced to. It's obedience born from free will, not from fear, meaning you have a competent confident henchman, rather than a cowering reluctant one. And I worship you regardless of who you are - if all of a sudden the Empire gets toppled and you lose everything, I will still be your most loyal supporter and will rebuild the bloody thing from scratch for you.

And I agree my puppy had it coming."

 

 

_“Mmm, Tiger - your pillow talk is the dreamiest. ‘I could overwhelm you, I could kill you’... Are you *trying* to turn me on?” I laugh. “It’s amazing the things that you just *know*, even without your memory. I also very much liked that you would rebuild my Empire from scratch for me, and I was right to kill your puppy.” I caress your face and gaze into your eyes. “You are absolute perfection. I *love* you, Sebastian...”_

 

 

I’m bristling - are you taking the mickey?

No, it seems you’re serious...

... and then you say you love me and you look so sweet I’m melting.

“I have lost my memory, not my soul. There are things I know that have nothing to do with conscious thought - it’s a certainty, a part of me like my right leg. I don’t need my memory to know I have a right leg, or that I love and worship you.”

I pull you close, start kissing again... I should find out about that Lethe drug one of these days, but truly, being in bed with you is so much more important... who needs memory when you can have the sexiest body in the world in your hands?

 

 

_"I really do miss being at home with you," I say mournfully, in between kisses. "Tomorrow let's get this New York business taken care of as quickly as possible. For now, we're stuck in our twenty-something apartment. You're six years older than me, by the by. So if I were 21, you'd be 27. Not quite cradle-robbing, but a big enough difference back then - you'd be the sexy, older criminal to my young, impressionable delinquent." I grin and kiss your neck._

 

 

"Mmm... what a sweet young impressionable delinquent you are... I wonder what else I could teach you..." I grin predatorially, move over you, kiss your neck, bite gently - are you up for letting me take control, I wonder?

 

 

_"Yes - sweet. Impressionable." I laugh wryly, but your lips and teeth on my neck make me gasp. "Oh... are you offering to take me under your wing, you big, bad criminal?"_

 

 

"Hmmm... I could," I ponder. "But I'd need you to do as I say - I don't have time to waste on people who are just going to do their own thing and getting themselves locked up or killed. Think you can do that, my boy?"

 

 

_“Oh, is that right?” I ask, a smirk on my lips. “Well, I can follow instructions – but don’t call me ‘my boy’... the name’s Jimmy.”_

 

 

“Alright then, Jimmy... you think you got what it takes to make it in the world of crime, do you? And why is that, I wonder? I’m big and strong and a trained killer... What do you have going for you?”

 

 

_"What do I have going for me? The fact that you had to ask that is what I have going for me... I fool everyone. They look at me and see a scared, skinny little shit. They have no fucking clue what I'm capable of. I'm fast, I'm vicious as hell, and I've racked up more kills than you want to know about. That good enough for you or do you need me to prove myself?"_

 

 

I grin. “Oooh, feisty! Right then, young man - let’s see what you got.

You’ll get to fuck me... if you can make me.”

 

 

_I laugh low in my throat. “And that proves what? That you have eyes? You obviously *want* to be fucked by me - is the thought of being overpowered doing it for you, you big, strong man?” I can feel my eyes glittering as you watch me._

 

 

"I highly doubt you _could_ overpower me, scrawny little thing like you... but I'd like to see you try, small fry. Yeah, of course I want to be fucked by you - but, pretty boy like you - I want to fuck you as well. So - what do you say? Fair fight, winner takes all? Or you could just forfeit if you're too chicken..."

 

 

_My eyes narrow. "Fair fight, you say? I could take a big bloke like you... but I strongly suspect you have skills the average gorilla doesn't. And I'm not in the habit of starting fights I can't win. That's not being chicken, darling - it's knowing how to play the game." I slide my hand along your arm. "Now why don't you pour me a drink and we can play a game that's fun for both of us..."_

 

 

I laugh. "Oh, clever. Yes, I doubt you could have won... I'm still keen to see your skills in a fight, but maybe with less high stakes."

I'm getting the last bit of wine from the kitchen, when I have a brilliant idea and start looking through the cupboards in the living room. _Yes_ \- there's a drinks cupboard with glasses and brandy, whisky, port, and Cointreau. Excellent - I pour you a Cointreau and myself a whisky, and head back to the bedroom.

"Look what I found. A true treasure trove of alcohol! Now, let's hear what kind of game you had in mind..."

 

 

_"So. This is a variation of an improv game I learned in an acting class I took only once and dropped out of. We start out in opposite corners of the room. We take turns telling each other something we want to do to each other. After each turn, we take a step closer to each other. If you make the other person laugh, you win. If you make the other person smile, you win. If you get the other person visibly turned on, you win. And if you win, the other person is your prize and you can fuck them however you'd like. And if you want to make it harder (so to speak), we could take a drink after each turn. Interested?" I stare at you as I sip from my glass._

 

 

“I’m intrigued by the kind of acting classes you took,” I laugh.

“Yes, sounds good - so what happens if you reach each other before one of you has won?”

Not that I expect that to happen. I’m reasonably alright with a poker face I think, but if you’re going to be saying sweet hot things I don’t stand a chance of keeping it down. Unless I go deeply into body conditioning training and that’s not pleasant in a sexy game.

However, it’s not a game I am particularly bothered about losing...

 

 

_“If we reach each other before someone wins? I don’t think that will happen, do you?” I look at you slyly. “But it’s good to address all possibilities... once we’re in front of each other, obviously we have to stop taking steps - but there’s nothing to stop us from moving closer to each other. There’s just no touching... until someone wins. And then there’s *a lot of touching*. Are you ready, Mr Moran...?” I say, all innocence as I get out of bed and stretch. Feeling your eyes on me, I walk like a lazy cat to a corner of the room with my drink in my hand. I turn, smiling._

_Your arse is mine, Tiger._

 

 

"Ready, Mr Moriarty..." I grin, take my place in the opposite corner with my own drink.

"I think it's only fair if I go first, don't you agree? Let's see..."

I don't have a snowflake's chance in hell in this game, but that doesn't mean I will not put up a fight. So... do I go for the laughs or for the hardon? You'll expect me to go for the hardon, so let's try the laugh. Not that I remember any jokes, of course. Damn. Be funny, Tiger.

... yeah, right.

Urgh. Smile then?

"Does hypothetical count? I wish I could paint, so I could show you what you look like to me when you look at me. It's out of this world..."

 

 

_I raise an eyebrow."You can say whatever you want... but that didn't do it. Drink and step forward."_

_We move forward one pace, and I take a belt of my Cointreau._

_"You know what I'd like? I'd like for you to initiate me into the underworld, you big... bad... criminal. Take me into the darkness... show me the ropes..." I murmur. "I want to be like you... Will you teach me? Will you show me how to be bad?" I smile at you and wait._

 

 

Oh, I didn't know we were still playing that game. OK...

Well the shift in thought ensures I don't laugh, smile, or get turned on. So I take a drink and a step, and you do the same.

My turn again.

"I'll take you into the darkness, and I'll show you the ropes... so well, that in no time you'll be able to use them to bind even me... and when I'm tied down, unable to move, you'll whip me till I bleed, then release the ropes and get me on my knees, sucking your cock while you grasp your fingers in my hair, shoving me down until you come into my hot eager mouth...

Does that sound bad enough for you?"

 

 

_My eyebrows are moving up, but I manage to keep my mouth mostly still. I think my lips twitch a little, but it hardly counts as a smile._

_*Good* one, Sebastian..._

_"It sounds deliciously bad..." I purr. "Now drink and move closer."_

_I drink and step forward._

_"Well, I like the idea of using the ropes on you and making you bleed... but I'm also secretly wondering what it would be liked to be fucked by you. You're so big and scary-looking... it really turns me on to think of you overpowering little me. Do you like to think of that, too? Do you want to see me on my knees? Do you want me to suck you hard... *now*?" I ask in a breathy voice, and let my eyes go unfocused as I gaze at you._

 

 

Oh you _bastard_. _Keep it down, keep it down_...

Yes, like _thinking_ of it helps.

It's... mostly down. Doesn't count. Surely.

_Don't look at his eyes..._

I hear you chuckle, look up at you. You've seen it, of course you have. So - have I lost the game, or are you being magnanimous?

 

 

_"Why don't I give you a pass for that one..." I say with a small smile. "You were still finding your way during the first round."_

_I hold my glass up to my lips and sip. "*Drink*..." I invite silkily._

_I take a slow emphatic step towards you. "*Walk*…" I command, my voice velvet-soft._

 

 

I drink. I walk. I look at you. My beloved delightful dark lord...

I look you deep into the eyes, try to put on my sultriest voice, say:

"I want to lose this game. I want you to take your pleasure from me, any way you like, treat me like an object created solely for your pleasure, like I am. I want you to fuck me, hard, make me gasp, moan, and cry, take me, make me yours, make me feel I'm yours, completely, utterly, irrevocably..."

 

 

_My body I have under control because I want to *win*. But I am *this close* to grinning wildly at your admission; it is a fight to the death with the smile threatening to break free. I pummel the smile into submission, see it break into a hundred pieces and fly away._

_“Of course you want to lose the game...” I purr. “So why don’t you just..._

_Give in..._

_Surrender..._

_I could be buried in that arse in less than five minutes..._

_Balls deep in Tiger._

_Making you cry out to god using my name because, Honey - in this vast expanse of space, the closest thing there is to god is me._

_*Make* you mine? You *are* mine._

_You want me to fuck you now, sweet thing?_

_Just... let it... happen..._

_And I will make you pop like fine champagne.”_

_I lick my lips and unleash my smile._

 

 

I know all this. And it makes my heart swell but my cock manages to stay calm. Good boy.

"You know me. It takes quite a bit to make me surrender. And I'll be the first to admit that you got what it takes... but you're not getting me that easily. If you win - which you will, you know it as well as I - I want you to not just jump me. I want you to take your time and claim your prize. I'm physically fine, we know this, just drugged. So - show me what you liked to do before I lost my memory. Show me the pleasure you take in my pain. Make me cry out to you, the closest thing to god, in the throes of agony and ecstasy. I want to know how I got these scars. I want to feel your power all around, all inside, over me and through me. I want there to be nothing else in the world but you. Show me what you did. My body longs to remember."

I look into your eyes, my breath shallow.

I think I meant every word I said.

 

 

_"Ohhh... did I hear that right? Tiger wants to be a *challenge*..._

_Well you know how this works - have a drink. Come closer..."_

_I beckon you with my finger as I step forward, and take a sip._

_"What I'm hearing is that Tiger wants to *bleed*..._

_It's not enough to fuck you until you're gasping and moaning. You want to *suffer*..._

_You know there's something you haven't experienced yet since you lost your memory, and it's making you *hunger* for it - this thing you know is missing. This thing your flesh craves... Are you hungry *now*, Tiger? Because I am... Give yourself to me, and let me show you - that sweet pain that's waiting for you..."_

 

 

What was the purpose of this game? Winner got to fuck the other?

Fuck winning this game with extreme prejudice.

I grin broadly, knock back my drink, put the glass on the side, take the two steps that still separate me from you, and sink to my knees in front of you.

 

 

_A smile spreads across my face slowly._

_"Oh, this *does* make me so deliciously happy... not only I win the game, which is exactly perfect... but I have a hungry, naked Tiger to play with as my prize." I take your chin in my hand. "And don't you worry - the time will come us for us to fight... and for you to overpower me and do what you like. But right now, honey... it's time to show you what's been missing. Get my small suitcase from the cupboard and bring it to me. Then lie on the bed and close your eyes."_

 

 

I guess I should feel more scared? I know you're dangerous - I've seen your face this afternoon - literally the first thing I saw when I saw you was a serpent - you're probably the most dangerous man in London.

And I don't feel scared in the slightest. You're right - my flesh craves something, something it remembers, though my mind doesn't. Huh. A neurologist could probably write their PhD thesis on this...

I go to the cupboard, open it, see a small suitcase. It doesn't bring back any memories. I pick it up, bring it to you, then lie down on the bed... close my eyes.

This is it. I don't know what I've unleashed, and for a fraction of a second, my stomach tightens, but the desire is greater than this bleak weak attempt at fear.

 

 

_I unzip my suitcase slowly - good thing I consider my equipment essential when packing essentials. I paw through and pull out a leather eye mask and a case with my adjustable restraint set._

_I slide the mask over your eyes._

_I cuff your ankles, but keep them unattached for now._

_I cuff your wrists together._

_I slide a bondage collar over your neck, and attach the wrists cuffs to the metal ring._

_I pull out a riveted leather strop and a sheathed knife and lay them with precision on the bedside table as if prepping for surgery._

_I gaze at you adoringly and pick up the strop, run my hands over the fine Italian leather, the polished rivets._

_"Showtime, Tiger..." I call, and help you into a kneeling position facing away from me._

_I lean in and whisper in your ear. "You asked for agony and ecstasy - remember that."_

_I rise on the bed and snap the leather strop hard across your back, just above your shoulder blade._

_I close my eyes. Your cry brings a smile to my lips._

 

 

My ears are perking up now my eyes are closed. I hear metal clinking as you rummage through the suitcase, and then my face is being touched - a blindfold. This feels good in a way - keeping my eyes closed is no longer my responsibility.

You move over my body, putting restraints in place, and the more I am tied, the more at ease I feel, which seems paradoxical - shouldn’t I be getting tense? Don’t I have training or something to avoid this type of situation at all costs? Apparently any such training I had has been well and truly stamped out by whatever you have been doing to me. It’s still there, but it’s well aware it’s not needed or welcome, so it’s happily lying dormant as my wrists are cuffed to my neck.

Things are put on the nightstand. I can’t determine what they are.

A slight ripple runs over my skin. I’m bound and ready to experience something of which I have no idea. And I asked for it without knowing what I was asking for.

Am I completely mental? Must be. Who would beg for pain, blood, scars?

Who but me... my body memory... it’s longing for a release of some kind, and though I’ve loved the sex we’ve been having there is something deeper, darker, that it hankers for... and I think this is it.

I do hope so...

It certainly was something that we did in the past, so I must have enjoyed it, even though you seem to think it was all you being horrible - I wouldn’t have stayed, fallen madly in love, otherwise, would I?

I’m guided to a kneeling position - this is it - what will it be -

I hear a whistling sound a fraction of a second before pain bursts through my shoulders and I can’t suppress a cry - it’s like I’m being cut into with a red hot sword. _fuck._

Whose idea was this?!

But I’m not moving.

I’m sitting here absolutely still after the first cringe and shudder.

I’m sitting, expecting more pain, accepting it... welcoming it. Welcoming this side of you.

This, too, is love...

 

 

_I lash out against the same spot, other side. I smile as I watch the stripe slowly growing across your back. Small beads of blood seep through your skin._

_My fingernails scrape along the stripe towards your spine, and then I move my tongue along the other side._

_“Tiger,” I say in a husky voice. “You wanted to know what you were missing... I’m going to give it back to you. Good and hard. Now.”_

_I lash underneath the stripe, and make a contented rumbling sound in my throat as you cry out again. And again. And again._

_“*God*, Tiger... you’re so beautiful. Your body... your responses... you’re so delicious, darling... and *all mine*.”_

_I lash harder, and moan softly as I feel your cries wash over me._

 

 

I cry out with every lash - I could have suppressed it if I needed to but why would I? You need to hear this, I can tell from your touch, the tone of your voice as you speak, the sounds you make as you lash down. You need this - I need this - it is who we _are_. It _hurts_ like a motherfucker, and I can hear words intersperse with the cries - 'god', 'fuck', 'no', 'please' - but they don't carry intent, they're just sounds, involuntary spasms of the vocal cords.

Meanwhile, we dance, you and I... You lead, I follow, and we dance to the edge of a cliff, and on, as we plunge into the abyss.

Pain is everywhere. Pain is my life now. My body responds, cries, groans, shudders, jerks. A significant part of me is shouting at me to duck, cover, move away from the cause of the pain; pain is a signal your body is being damaged; stop the damage, you stupid oaf - I let it shout. This is bigger than me, bigger than my body. This is me plunging into the abyss and finding that it is the home I'd been looking for.

There is one sound I make that does have significance... torn from my heart in reflection of the raging storm of agony ravaging my body. It carries the full meaning of pain and the full meaning of love... just the one syllable, to express the critical essence of my life -

" _Jim_..."

 

 

_“Yes, my darling... You’re doing so beautifully, my love..." I croon. "Take my pain into you, and give me... *all of you*, you beautiful, majestic Tiger."_

_I run my hand along your raised welts and it comes away red. I stare at the blood, and press my body against yours._

_Your skin is hot and swollen, and I rub myself against it. Your sharp gasp fills my ears like music._

_I press my cheek against my shoulder._

_"I love you, Sebastian," I whisper. "*Always*. And now I want your blood, darling..."_

 

 

I feel you against my back - hurt-

Your arms wrap around me - love...

Your voice in my ear... surrender...

“Yours...I’m yours Jim... all of me, take all of me... everything I am, everything I am capable of... it’s all yours... because you are... everything...”

Not my best speech but not bad considering I’m teary with the pain and tumbling headfirst into an abyss.

It’s you... you’re all around me, all that is in my head, my heart...

“I love you, Jim. Take my blood, take my body, take all that you could possibly want... it’s all yours.”

 

 

_I kiss the back of your neck, running my tongue along it, tasting you..._

_Then I pull back and look down - traces of blood are smeared across my chest._

_I smile. There needs to be a whole lot more._

_I reach over to the bedside table, lay the strop down and pick up the knife._

_"Oh, my darling Tiger... after all the anticipation, this is going to be so sweet," I purr._

_I run the blade along your neck and down your spine... then back up again, making a light scraping sound against your skin._

_On the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, I slide the blade forward and nick your flesh. I watch blood pool up, and cover the small wound with my lips. I swallow your blood and exhale slowly._

_I raise my head and kiss your ear._

_"Tiger..." I whisper. "It’s even sweeter than I thought it would be..."_

_I hold the blade against your neck under your earlobe and nick you again. I tongue the blood that seeps out, and lower my head to drink more._

 

 

 

You're drinking my blood - what better way to symbolize that you own me, that my life belongs to you, than to literally drink my life fluid? My adored vampire...

The blade stings, my body responds with an involuntary jerk, trying to escape the threat to its integrity, but I tell it to stay still. This is Jim. Jim is no threat to my body and if he were, it would still be fine, because it's his. Mind over matter.

You seem to enjoy my blood, purring, stroking me with your free hand, pressing yourself against my back.

And with a shock, I reach the bottom of the abyss. It's dark, and there's pain everywhere, and the smell of blood, and it's all you - you are the darkness, the pain, the bloodshed - and this is where I belong. This is it. I'm home.

 

 

_I nick you on the other side of your neck and under your ear, and lick up the blood._

_“Lie back, Sebastian,” I order and help you ease back onto the bed, your feet at the top. I scoot up to the top and move the pillows aside. Then I stare down at your body, your arms shackled together, hanging from your collar._

_I slide the blade up your calf and thigh, lightly piercing flesh and leaving pleasing nicks from your ankle to your inner thigh. I then bring my lips to your inner thigh and suck blood from the cut until you moan. I do the same on the other side, naturally. And I suck at your inner thigh, lightly running my hand along your cock until you’re moaning desperately._

 

 

I idly wonder if the mattress won't get stained...

The pain is sharp, but pain is where I live now, so I just - register. OK. Pain. Inside of leg damaged. Not seriously. Other leg too. Throat and mouth make moaning sounds.

Jim is drinking the blood again... Jim... My beautiful dark Jim, bringer of this pain, keeper of the home, lord of my life. My love... Love and pain, love through pain...

And then pleasure enters the pain. That's nice... I love pleasure... it's so profound, here, in this house of pain. The hurt heightens the pleasure... I moan with the acuteness of the sensation, my cock is so sensitive, so keen for your touch...

 

 

_I look up from your inner thigh. You appear to be lost my pleasure and pain... the sight is so beautiful._

_I'd like to lavish your chest with both, but your arms are in the way. No bother - that's why I love this set of restraints._

_I move to your head, remove your wrist cuffs from your collar... bring your arms to your side... move your knees up, so your feet are next to your hands... attach your wrist and ankle cuffs together._

_I admire you for a moment in this position, your cock still hard._

_I stroke it gently. "Not just yet, darling... I'm not quite done..."_

_I pick up my knife, and return to your flesh - this time nicking just underneath your ribs and your collarbones. I lightly cut a semi-circle just below your nipple, and suck the wound and areola together. Repeat on the other side. Your moans are like sweet music._

_I stare down at you, your mouth slightly open, breathing irregularly._

_I lean over your blood-smeared body, down between your legs, and begin to suck you._

 

 

My chest gets more scars... these are the good scars, your scars, marks from your pleasure...

The pain of the cuts below the nipple is acute, I can't help but groan at that - god, you're good... I'm already lost in a realm of pain, but you still manage to dig deeper, get me further... And suck my lifeblood...

I'm floating, I'm not on the bed any more, it's like when I was unconscious... adrift in a velvety blackness that is all Jim... dark and warm and safe... with an edge of blood and pain... And it's such a good place... I'd never want to be anywhere else.

You lean over me, I see nothing but darkness behind the mask... But I see your eyes in my mind, infinite pools of ink, depths unfathomed, galaxies as yet unborn... And I spin, spin deeper...

And then you move down and pleasure fills the velvet blackness and it's... everything...

 

 

_I look up at you, grinning at the look of ecstasy on your face. “Mmm. Enjoyable as this is, we all know I come first. Still feeling patient, my Tiger?” I kiss the head of your cock, and slip my tongue out to give it a small nudge. “Hmmm?”_

_You mutter something and look so sulky I have to close my eyes to keep from giggling._

_“Oh now, don’t be that way, my love... You know you’ll come as long as you’re very good. So let’s just mix things up a little - " I unhook your ankle cuffs from your wrists and pull your legs flat into a nice stretch. I lightly knead the muscles of your calves and your thighs, avoiding the shallow cuts which are delicately beaded with blood. I sweep my finger gently along one cut and look at the blood. I draw something on the wall, bring my finger to the other cut from more blood to finish my work. I still need a bit more, so I collect blood from your inner thighs and above your nipples. I gaze at the wall, and find myself beaming. I sigh, suddenly feeling very moved and lean in to kiss you dreamily. You kiss me back with eagerness, and I lose time with my lips against yours. Then I whisper as I gaze at your face, “Get up. Kneel. Facing the headboard. I’ll do the rest.”_

_You obey and I move you into the position I want - cheek resting on the pillow. Hands next to ankles. Once again, ankle cuffs are hooked to wrist cuffs._

_I look at you, assessing - and I’m in bloody awe over how hot your arse looks, with you all trussed up and spread apart like this. “My god, you look delectable...” I say, in a daze. “I need to use these restraints way more often...”_

_I grab lube from the bedside table and use it on myself and you._

_“Are you ready for me, Tiger?” I ask, smacking your arse hard._

_“God - yes,” you reply._

_The sound was so lovely, I smack the same side even harder. Your freshly whipped arse is quickly turning red - beautiful._

_I position my cock at your entrance. “I’m so glad to hear that, Tiger...” I purr. “Because this won’t be quick.”_

_I push in a little, pull back, push in further. I smack your arse a third time, and find myself driving in further as you clench your muscles. “Oooh. Fun!” I say gleefully._

 

 

Oh no Jim don't stop don't stop don't stop... oh god... oh you cruel cruel love...

You're taking my blood and... draw with it on the wall?! What on earth are you drawing on the wall? Curiosity killed the cat, I won't let it kill the Tiger, I'll wait until I can see again...

And then I'm shackled hands to feet and presenting myself to you on a silver platter... God Jim I want you... I don't think I've ever wanted anything so much... Not in the last few days, at least... Oh who cares about anything that happened before...

You're smacking my arse and it feels so good and I _so_ want you... please Jim please, fill me up, I'm empty without you-

 _God, yes_...

You move inside me and I can't wait for you to fill me, I groan and want to push back, but I'm not capable of moving, I'll have to wait for you, when you decide to move you will move exactly how much you want, and that is as it should be, I'm here for your pleasure...

" _Jim..._ my love... my lord... god, yes, take me, please... I'm yours, yours, take me..."

 

 

_“I will, my Tiger - you’re mine to take, mine to have...” I say low in my throat. I smack your arse, feel your muscles pull me forward as you clench in response. I groan as I’m wedged into you, oh *god*, so tightly._

_“Fuck...” I breathe._

_I started out all playful and dominating, now I’m feeling heat rising in my body, desire burning through me._

_I pause, my hands on your hips. I steady my breathing, and pull out partway. Then I surge in again, burying myself in you. We both groan loudly._

_“*Fuck*...” I repeat, feeling my muscles tremble. Then I feel my body snatch the reigns from me as I cover your body with mine and start to thrust into you, moaning._

 

 

You're letting go, no longer restraining your desire, letting it ride you like you're riding me, and we're soaring together; your hands grasping around my chest, firing up the pain where the skin is torn, pulling me close, closer to you, pounding into me, fucking me, oh god it feels like I've been waiting for this for ages, fucking me, like I've been dying to be fucked...

I feel you moving inside me, the anguish as you seem to disappear when you pull so far back; the fulfilment, the gasps, the pulling at my restraints as you push inside, deeper, ever deeper...

And I am unable to move, unable to see, only able to feel and to be, and everything I feel, everything I am, is you... my Jim-

 

 

_“I told you - “ I gasp, “this wouldn’t be quick... I was so wrong...” I moan._

_I’m still in awe of how bodies just take over when you let them - I used to have to control everything, every thrust measured, every sound monitored... now I hear myself groaning, I feel my body slamming against yours, my balls smacking against yours, my cock pulsing inside you... god this is getting bestial, and I fucking like it._

_“Oh *god*, Tiger... I love fucking you. I fucking *love* it,” I rant over your delightful panting and groaning._

 

 

“Yessss... god, Jim, fuck me... I love being fucked by you, fucked hard - fuckkkkk... oh god Jim you feel... so – fucking - good...” I babble half insensate.

God, is this what we used to do? Probably not always, or I’d have more scars... but something like this... and I can totally see why we did it. I can understand that you were reluctant to try this on a wounded man, but - fucking hell, you seem to love it - as do I. Remember what you were thinking earlier Sebastian, about how you couldn’t imagine people not constantly having sex? Well that was just normal sex... whatever that is... but this... fuck, this is celestial, infernal, otherworldly, divine... I’m inside an obsidian sphere, and you are the wizard holding it, making magic happen... pulling my strings perfectly...

And fucking me through the mattress, which is absolutely amazing.

Can we take a month off after this and _only_ have sex, please?

 

 

_I lean over you and scratch at the scab that's formed over the cut at your neck. Blood trickles out and I scrape my teeth against the wound and fasten my lips to it. Now I'm sucking your blood while fucking you like an animal, while you're completely immobilized in restraints. *God*, this is depraved - I love it. My hand curls around your neck and I lightly press my fingers over it - and then slightly harder._

_"I'm going to come inside you, Tiger… as soon as I do, you have my blessing to follow..."_

_I snake an arm around you to begin to stroke your cock._

_I start to breathe faster as I drive myself into you harder._

 

 

Oh god - you are making this into a debauched orgy worthy of Caligula all on your own...

(Oh of _course_ I remember my Roman emperors! What do they _do_ at Eton, that you can forget your mother's face, but never your classical upbringing!?)

Oh who cares... you're sucking my blood, pounding into me, pressing against my throat... and stroking my cock, and I _really_ won't need a lot to send me over the edge, Jim...

But your breath is coming faster, you're getting closer yourself... and I let go into the black sphere with blood-red edges, into the chthonic bliss of your pleasure, into your realm... and your realm is pain and torment and blood and anguish and utter, sublime ecstasy.

I moan, an animalistic sound, hardly coherent any more, all I know is you, you all around me, you inside me, you on top of me, you... Jim...

 

 

_I had been so worried about reintroducing you to this side of our relationship - I thought perhaps without your memory you would find it too deviant, too painful, too *mad*… and where would that leave us? But it seems you find the deviance, pain and madness delicious..._

_Tears spring to my eyes as I drive myself into you over and over... we are unbelievably well suited for each other, which is a very measured way of saying that I am mad for you, you are mad for me, and I can't even begin to imagine life without you, let alone going back to what we had before._

_*I love you* is the final thought I have before I fall over the edge into ecstasy, moaning and shuddering against you. As I dimly feel the tremors start through your muscles, I press my hand slightly harder around your throat - your breathing is laboured as you come in a magnificent display of groaning and grunting. I release your neck and you pant as I pull out._

_"Tiger..." I breathe. "Oh, my darling..." I quickly unshackle you, and stretch out your limbs for you. Then I gather you in my arms and kiss your face over and over._

_"I love you, Sebastian..." I whisper as my tears roll down my cheeks and fall on your face._

 

 

 

 


	15. My One. My Only.

The sphere is constricting... my consciousness contracts as you come inside me, as I feel the hot liquid, your frantic spasms, hear your moans... oh god that's all I needed...

And then my breath is constricted as well, making the world even smaller, until there is only you in my arse, you around my cock, and my cock exploding into the blackness, waves of pleasure shivering thick red lines through my body, my existence shrinking and becoming fuzzier until you release my throat and cold light floods in along with the crisp air.

A whine escapes me as you pull out of me - I don't want you to be outside me...

But then you're all over me, and kissing me,, and... are those _tears!?_

I shoot my hands up to your face. "Jim!? What's wrong, my love?"

 

 

_I can’t speak for a moment, just shake my head and press my face against yours. I pull the eye mask over your head and throw it on the nightstand._

_“I just -“ A distressed sound escapes from my throat. “I just. Can’t believe. This almost didn’t happen. Do you understand how against the odds this is? Some New York crime boss decided to make a power play, and gave you an amnesia-inducing drug. They could have killed you. But instead they dropped you back home. And it wouldn’t have been smart money to bet on *me* discovering my *feelings* for you. That only happened because you were such an obstinate, persistent fucker... And all along the way, any number of things could have gone wrong where one or both of us died. Instead - we just kept getting closer and closer, until I realized...” Tears start streaming down my face again. “You are my one true love, Sebastian... My one. My only.” I press my wet face against yours. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an arse for the last two years. You have the patience of a bloody saint, Tiger...”_

 

 

I stare at you, my heart pounding and my brain scrambling to keep up with your words. I think my mouth opens slowly.

Your face gets all blurry, and then my cheeks are wet -

Jim -

_my one true love. My one. My only_

Jim...

I pull you close, kiss your ear, your hair, your cheek -

"Jim - you haven't been an arse for the last two years. First of all, I don't remember any of it. Second of all, if you would have been, why was I so incredibly in love with you? Third, if the last days are anything to go by, I do _not_ have the patience of a saint. So you must have been doing _something_ right."

You raise your head, look at me through your tears.

"And... what you said... one true love... god... Jim..."

My tears are flowing quite freely now. "I _know_ you are my world. You are in every fibre of my body, my mind recalls you even when it doesn't remember _anything_. I don't know if I've ever loved before, but I do know that this... what I feel for you... is a once in a lifetime thing. It permeates my entire being. You are... everything to me.

And to hear that you... love me so much... it's just... overwhelming.” Tears are choking my voice...

“And - what you did just now, the... sex... sex is too small a word... the way you possessed my body, it was... it just confirmed what I already knew, I am yours, and am never happier than when I feel your ownership of me.

I think we are a perfect pair... probably quite mad, but... I can't imagine I _ever_ met anyone who could hold a candle to you. And - I'm sorry, I'm rambling - but - I'm glad you feel the same."

 

 

_I’m smiling and crying as you speak._

_“We are bloody mad peas in a pod... And I am so happy to have found you. Right under my own nose. I was a blind fool, but my eyes are open now. I always thought it was weakness to love another... to need another. Now I understand - it makes me *more* than I was, it makes me stronger to have someone by my side who I adore, who adores me... I always felt like a stone’s throw away from death at every moment. Because what did I have to live for? Nothing. And now - everything. And anyone who comes against us, whether they’re on the side of the angels or demons, will discover just how much that’s true…“ I say, my voice growing inky black - I hear leathery wings unfurling in obsidian shadows, and I smile affectionately at the darkness within. I see you watching me, recognizing me for who I am, and loving me more for it._

_I kiss your forehead tenderly. “I need to take care of your wounds, my darling. I don’t want to get up but I need my supplies... how do you feel?”_

 

 

I half-laugh at that question -

"How do I _feel?_ Like - like the most beautiful, most fascinating, most enchanting man in the world just told me I'm his true love. I guess you could say I feel exalted. Magnificent. Sublime."

I pull you back onto me. "I've never been happier. And I don't want to hear anything about amnesia - I _know_ this is true. You are the Prince of Darkness, and I am your chosen consort. You've just elevated me to semi-divine status, and I feel divine..."

 

 

_I beam at you. “I like your words, Tiger... they’re *fucking* good words. I meant how do you feel physically, but I got to hear the perfect summation of you and me. Yes, I *am* the Prince of Darkness... Yes, you *are* my exalted consort. And yes, *we are divine*... And we will reign hellfire down on those who sought to destroy us…” I sigh happily and wrap my arms around you. “And cuddle our arses off. But first - I need to take care of you, dear heart...” I get up, despite your protests, and slide out of your grasping arms._

_“I’ll just be a moment, darling...” I chuckle and pad over to the closet where my aftercare kit is packed._

 

 

Not having you in my arms feels excruciatingly hollow, like there is a void inside me that aches when you're not near. But you are near - you're only going up to get a first-aid kit, and you're getting that to care for me...

Your face when you return is one I haven't seen yet. I look at it as you concentrate on cleaning the wounds in my neck and chest, and I ponder that this is probably the closest look at who you really are, deep down, that I've got. You're so much more at ease with me than you were two days ago...

You look like a teenage boy, or maybe a student, absorbed in what he is working on, pleased by the intricacy and elegance of the subject matter, determined to discover its every secret, to bring the process under his hands to the best possible outcome. I don't move, don't make a sound, so as not to disturb you in your focus.

 

 

_As I treat your wounds, I consider that there’s something that’s not right about how I see the world, if I need to cut open my *one true love*... but it doesn’t seem to bother you any - you *love* it. You love *me*._

_And now I’m crying again as I clean and dress your wounds._

_“Darling...” I sniffle, as I wipe my eyes. “Would you like something to eat or drink? Are you sleepy?”_

 

 

Oh Jim... I grab you close.

“All I want is right here,” I murmur against your hair. “Why are you crying, my love?”

 

 

_“I don’t know...” I say, weeping. “It’s been a hell of a couple of days. I’ve cried more in two days than I have in twenty years. I want to be *home* with you, I want - to start my life with you... “ I cry harder. “This is a shit apartment. I don’t like it. I want to go *home*... Are you sure you’re not hungry?” I sniffle. “I could make you some tea...”_

 

 

Oh Jim... my goodness... I've never seen you like this; I don't need my memory to know that... My poor sweet Kitten... wanting to be _home_...

I am home... you are my home... Can I be your home?

"It's alright, Kitten... We're here together, and wherever we are together, nothing else matters, really. Any bed where I have you in my arms is fine with me... But I would prefer all this to be behind us.

Jim - when this is over, can we... take some time to get to know each other? You're probably very busy with your Empire, but - do you ever get any holiday time? I mean - it's not every day you discover you have a love of your life.

The Americans are getting blown up as we speak... Come here, my love. Our enemies are dead, we will kill some more in the morning, for now, we sleep..."

 

 

_“Holidays?” I repeat, blinking. “No... once in a while I take an evening off. You mean actually *not working* for a prescribed number of days?? Never...” I look at you thoughtfully. “You’d like that, I take it? I suppose I could... assign responsibilities to my most trusted employees. You would be the first choice, but obviously you would be out of commission, too. We could deal with this amnesia thing, see about getting you some kind of treatment...” I yawn._

_“Sleep sounds good. I’ll just get you some tea and snacks and an extra blanket, darling...” I stretch my arms so I can hide my smile._

 

 

I grab you forcefully. "You will do no such thing. If you bring me _one more_ blanket I swear I will strangle you with it. And I don't want tea or snacks. I just want you, and I got you right here..."

You turn around, stroke my temple, and your eyes look so infernally sweet it makes something inside me hurt.

"Jim... Thank you. Thank you for everything. For overcoming... whatever has been holding you back until now, because I insisted. For not killing me. For... being the best fucking- boyfriend, lover, partner, whatever - a man could want. You make me - very happy. And I don't care that much about my amnesia - these days that I can remember have been the best I could imagine. Why would I strive to regain memory of lesser times?"

 

 

_"Boyfriend-Lover-Partner-Whatever..." I muse. "I like it! It covers a lot of ground, but then - it's a bit of a mouthful, Tiger. If we have to say things like 'My fucking boyfriend-lover-partner-whatever is *sooo* going to kill you for that!' it will cause confusion rather than mind-numbing terror. Why don't we go with partner until we see if anything else suits." I kiss you sweetly._

 

_"And the reason we're going to do whatever it takes to regain your memory is - no *fucking plebs get to decide anything about our lives*," I say through gritted teeth. "Do you understand, darling? The day I lie back and take what some *insect* does to *my boyfriend-lover-partner-whatever* is the day I hang up my crown and open a gluten-free bakery in Croydon. Instead of *annihilating* them for having the cheek to think they can play in the same sandbox as the gods..." I snarl, feeling my loyal friend Darkness pour through me. I close my eyes, grasp your knee for steadiness and roll my head left and right._

_When I half-open my eyes, I see you gazing at me in amazement. I smile with dazed pleasure and touch your cheek. "See, Tiger? It really doesn't fly trippingly off the tongue like it should. My *partner* is not going to remain in amnesiac limbo for the rest of his life because some New York upstart decided the gloves are off. *He* doesn't get to make that choice. But he *does* get to die horribly for his hubris... and thank me for teaching him a valuable lesson," I purr, smiling with delight._

_"And besides - *I'm* not OK with your past being in a scrap heap. I want *all of you* back. I *will have all of you back*. Since the Tiger I knew had feelings for me, I want to see the look on his face when he comes back and realizes - " My breath catches in my throat, and darkness drains away. " - he got me. I think it will make that Tiger very happy, and... I owe him. More than I can possibly say..." I blink back tears, and caress your face._

_"Now - I still need to address the threat that came out of your insolent mouth, Sebbie. Do you think if I want to bring you tea and lovely snacks and a wonderful fuzzy blanket, you could stop me?" I smile at you challengingly, and make to get up._

 

 

My mouth is hanging open during your speech. You are so changeable - weeping mess one second and the absolute dark ruler of the world the next. I adore both sides, but this... demon incarnate really is something else, and I have no doubt that you could and will realize every one of these threats, including the bakery in Croydon, which makes me giggle.

And then you're being all sweet again and wanting your old Tiger back, and... of course. This is hard on me, but - you only have a fraction of your boyfriend-lover-partner-whatever. I'm depriving you of my full self, and somehow that is more of an incentive to get rid of this amnesia than any I've thought up so far.

I briefly marvel at that - is _that_ how deep my devotion to you goes? I seem to be putting you _way_ above myself in everything, and that just seems _right_ \- even now, I can't believe I'm questioning it. Is that... well, no, we'd established I'm not sane... or sensible...

Somehow, you are my world, and I'm like a knight of old whose entire life is in the service of his king, without questioning whether he should really have demands of his own and have some kind of equal relationship with the king - the mere thought is laughable. So, that's me - top knight in the court of the Dark King. And fucking delighted.

And then you're scary again, but it's a jokey scary... I _think_.

"Wouldn't dream of stopping you, Sir," I admit. "You go and make me a picnic all you want, but if your desire is to take care of me, then you could really do no better than stay right here... your presence is more healing than tea, and warmer than a blanket..."

 

 

_I sit back down. “So sweet! Although I was rather enjoying the grabbing and threats... my beautiful... predatory... Sebastian...” I purr. “Fine. I’ll make you a bedroom picnic another time, when we have a better selection of treats. And blankets.”_

_I lie back down, wrap my arms around you and gaze into your eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask softly._

 

 

"Yes. All I've ever wanted."

You're so comfortable in my arms, like god saw me and thought 'you know what, I'll make him a mate who fits him perfectly,' and then made you... your perfect body, moulded to mine...

But I know it's the other way round, really. I was made for you. Time is an illusion... You needed a Tiger and I was already there...

I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

 

_I watch you doze off, and then I listen to you breathe._

_I look around the apartment, glaring furiously. Mr Pott, you picked the wrong mastermind to fuck with. And it doesn’t matter that your actions brought me & Tiger together... you will still be made to pay._

_I retreat into my mind map, and by the time I emerge I have no idea how much time has passed. I look over to see you sleeping peacefully and I gently smooth your hair. I feel a wave of longing - it feels like forever before I’ll get to look into your eyes again._

_“Sweet dreams, my darling Tiger...” I whisper._

_I rest my head against your shoulder, and nestle against you as closely as possible._

_Then I fall into an uneasy slumber._

 

 

I wake in the dark, to someone stirring and talking. You’ve moved away from me and are thrashing in your sleep, your face contorted in the dim twilight, muttering words under your breath that I can’t quite make out -

You look so pained, it makes my heart clench.

I carefully reach out a hand to touch your shoulder. “Jim? Jim, it’s me. It’s Tiger. You’re having a nightmare... wake up, my love, you’re safe... it’s alright... I’m here...”

I carefully move towards you.

 

 

_Intruders have gotten into the house and have made messes - in the pantry, in the kitchen, in the living room. Everywhere they go, they leave a mess and a calling card, signed ‘Your Nemesisses’, and I scratch it out each time with a red pen and write Nemeses. NEMESES. and underline it twice. For fuck’s sake, they can’t even speak proper English and they got in past all the codes and traps?_

_This shouldn’t have happened... this should *not* have happened._

_How? How did they get in?? I thought I was so unassailable... I *let* this happen. All this time, I’ve been blaming them for your condition. But it was me._

_*Me*. I see you stretched out on an operating table, and I’m halfway through brain surgery - cutting a thick slice of your brain like birthday cake, serving it on a plate. I offer it to you, and you smile lovingly and say you don’t need it. But you have to take it, or it will be lost - lost forever, Sebbie!_

_The intruders arrive in a boisterous crowd, wearing party hats. The slice of your brain is ripped from my hands. I try to take it back, but in the struggle the plate crashes to the floor, and they all cheer and laugh._

_I hear myself screaming while you assure me it’s fine, but it’s *not* fine, it’s *NOT FINE* - then I feel a hand touching me, and the room is fading, melting away..._

_I open my eyes abruptly. “Where are they?”_

_“Jim, you were dreaming...” you say soothingly._

_“Seb - your brain! Your poor brain...” I jump up and start examining your head. You’re grabbing my hands gently, trying to reassure me you’re fine. “You’re not fine! I’m sorry, Sebbie... I’m so sorry...” I moan and fall against you, weeping in despair._

 

 

“Jim... Jim, my love... my sweet sweet love... I am fine, I assure you... look at me... look... see, I’m alright ... I have a small memory problem, but we’re going to take care of that.

And I feel absolutely fine with it. I’m healthy, I’m happy - fuck, I’m so madly in love, I’m ecstatic.

And none of this was your fault, my love. Others did this to me. We are killing them. We will see what we can do to reverse the effects. But - please listen to me when I say that even if I never get my memory back, I’m absolutely completely happy.

OK my love?”

I’m holding you close, stroking you as you’re sobbing against my chest, giving little kisses to the top of your head.

“Jim, my Jim... my beautiful sweet dark angel...”

 

 

_I can’t tell you... I can’t even tell you that part of why I’m so upset is that I’ve realized I *miss* you, *I fucking miss you*... you’ve been only partly here for three days, and - I want all of you back... only I can’t say anything about it, because it would upset you, and what if we can’t fix - *NO* I refuse to accept it, refuse to accept that part of you is gone. I want my Sebastian back, I want my Tiger... and I will not stop until I get him. But there’s no point in telling you this and upsetting you._

_I give a shuddering sigh against your chest. “I promise you, I’m not normally like this... this is so anomalous, but you must think me the weepiest creature on the planet...” I laugh through my tears. “God, when you get your memory back, you’ll be insufferable. You’ll be all, ‘I knew you loved me, I knew it!’ And then I’ll be so sad when I have to kill you...” I wrap my arms around you, and sigh. “But that’s jumping ahead. First things first. Today we deal with Francis Pott. We don’t rest until this is *done*... I’ll put on coffee and... oh... We don’t have anything for breakfast, Sebbie...” I sniffle against your chest._

 

 

"Jim... my love, it's half four... we should get back to sleep... And I don't think you're the weepiest creature on the planet, you're just... hurt and confused by everything that happened. You only have half of your... partner, you had to kill your cousin today, some idiot in New York is trying to encroach on your terrain, your phone might have been hacked, you are having to sleep in a strange apartment... it's all a bit much.

Let's get back to sleep, and when we wake up, I'll get us breakfast..."

I lie down, pull you down in my arms. My poor Kitten...

 

 

_I blink and look at the window. "I didn't realize it was so early... I'm sorry I woke you... Yes, let's sleep some more and... we'll have a lovely greasy breakfast in the morning and..." I feel myself drifting off before I even finish the sentence._

 

 

My dear, sweet sadistic narcissistic psychopath... You've gone through the wringer the past couple of days... I hope you'll sleep better now.

I hold you close, watch your face relax slowly. I feel such an urge to protect you from all that threatens you... you're having to think of everything and I'm hindering more than helping...

I resolve to read everything I can on that Lethe drug tomorrow and try to find a solution. And help you kill that New York guy. Think you can kill James Moriarty!? You're not just wrong... you've unleashed his own personal Avenging Angel in the form of a fierce Tiger... with a gun. And another gun. And a rifle. And a dagger...

I fall asleep imagining all the ways in which I can kill this Pott.

 

 

_I awake in your arms, feeling safe and warm. I could do this every day for the rest of my life, I realize. *Could*? NO - I *will*. It’s still such a strange concept to me, sharing a life with another - but with you, it’s not a decision to make. It’s not a choice. It just *is*... I belong with you, just like the sun and the moon and the stars belong in the sky._

_Thoughts float lazily in my head, memories of the past few days, and I sigh in contentment and nestle closer to you. I feel you stir, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for your eyes to open. A moment later, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen are blinking at me. I throw my arms around you and cover your face with kisses, making you laugh sleepily._

_“Morning, Tiger - “ I murmur, looking up at you._

 

 

"Hey there. Sorry - I must have had a bit too much to drink last night. Remind me of your name?"

 

 

_I snort. “Oh, ha *ha*... it’s sooooo unlike me to act this way, you’re just *so clever*...”_

_I roll my eyes. “See if I wish you good morning with any affection again... I’ll just greet with you a handshake and a nod, how would that be? Where’s my breakfast?”_

 

 

This isn't right. I don't remember anything of last night. You're in a good mood, so we must have had a pleasant night, but - I can't for the life of me remember where I picked you up, or what your name is. Apparently I promised you breakfast. We're at your place, so - we should go out I guess?

"Shower first? And then I'll take you out for breakfast? I'm really really sorry though - I don't know _what_ I had last night, but I don't remember a thing. Please bear with me - and I'm so sorry, but could you tell me your name?

 

 

_I stare at you, blinking rapidly. "Are you fucking *joking*, Sebastian? Because it's not *fucking* funny..." I snap._

_You're looking at me blankly._

_You don't look like you're joking..._

_I want to punch you hard in the face. *Why*? Why is my first impulse always to *hurt* you?_

_I restrain myself - barely._

_"Tiger -" I say through gritted teeth. "Are you telling me - you don't - remember - *anything*..." My horror increases with each word wrenched from me._

_I look at you staring at me, completely perplexed._

_"...Tiger?" I whisper brokenly. "*No*..."_

_Please..._

_don't do this..._

_*please*._

 

 

Sebastian? Tiger? What - why do you call me Sebastian Tiger?

What is wrong with that name? It's not my name, but - what is? Fucking hell, what _happened_ last night? Last thing I remember is...

... is...

 _fuck_... it's all blank...

I shake my head, trying to clear it. Come _on!!!_

... nothing...

"What the fuck... what the fuck is happening... who are you!? What have you done to me?!"

 

 

_"Sebastian, calm *down*," I shout, sounding distinctly uncalm as I grab your arms. "You've been drugged, but not by me. And the drug causes memory loss...over and over, apparently!!"_

_You shove me away, cursing. I sit up, feeling a very dangerous darkness pour through my veins like ice-cold venom._

_"Now. We don't have time for histrionics - you're a goddamn soldier. Even when RPG's are going off around you, you *complete the mission*. Well, I'm about to hand you your mission, soldier - so *fucking focus*._

_There's no time to go over all that's happened since your *first* bout of amnesia three days ago... or go into details about your regular life - suffice it to say, I'm a crime boss, and you're my bodyguard... We declared our love for each other exactly three days ago, and the thought of that being *erased* is making me want to set the world on fire and watch it *fucking burn*..._

_Now we were going to spend this morning taking vengeance on the one who drugged you, before fucking each other senseless and doing research on a treatment for your memory loss. But I think we need to reverse the order - Retrieve your memory. Kill Pott. Victory fuck."_

_I glare at you. "You're going to have to listen to your gut and *trust* that I'm telling you the truth. I’m Jim Moriarty and I'm the love of your fucking life. Your name is Sebastian Moran and you're fucking *mine*." I pull you to me and kiss you violently._

_"Pott wants to play rough and mess you up? He's getting a handwritten invitation to a cage match. And I need my Tiger by my side in order to get this shit done. So *get the fuck up*, get dressed, and let's put this fucker in the ground." I stand up, glowering. "Sebastian? *Move*."_

 

 

I'm being grabbed - _hands off_ , stranger - what the fuck is going on -

Soldier? _Yes!_ Yes, that's correct - soldier - are we in combat? RPGs!? Mission?

I don't understand - what's going on - what are you _talking_ about!?

Jim Moriarty... that rings a bell-

Kiss - wait what?! Kiss - good - but - danger!?

_Protect the civvy_

(Jim.)

What?

(He's not a civvy. He's Jim.)

That's very interesting. We can discuss that over tea later. First get civvyJim to safety.

_Window: clear. No line of sight_

_Door - risk_

_Move civvyJim to behind door_

I grab my gun from the bedside table, pick you up, and walk/drag you to behind the door.

_Identify danger_

...

_Identify danger_

"... Are we under threat?" I ask you. You're looking furious at being manhandled, push me off, and shout "No! Well - yes, but not here! Fuck's sake! Did you hear a word I said!?"

"I heard every word you said, but none of it made sense! What's going on!? If we're not under threat, could you explain calmly why I don't know who you are?! Or - what my name is?"

 

 

_“Sebastian... I know this is hard to follow, but you need to listen carefully. You were drugged and it caused you memory loss. The person who did it wants to kill us. But this is *most likely* a safe location. Now we could just take steps to neutralize him, but I thought *maybe* things would go a lot more smoothly if we attempted first to deal with your memory problem... wouldn’t you like that?” I ask, my voice shaking as I struggle to stay patient. Or at least not start screaming and breaking things..._

 

 

You look like you're on the verge of exploding, but at least you are throwing only one piece of information at a time at me now.

I was drugged? And that caused memory loss? What the _fuck_... And now they want to kill me - and you? And I'm your bodyguard... and you are a crime boss, you said... huh. Wouldn't have taken myself for a bad guy.

And we love each other?!

(Yes, of course... feel that? That's most definitely love.)

OK... I'm a bodyguard for a crime boss who I love.

I got hurt and drugged, presumably in the line of duty.

I'm also a soldier - wait. Soldiers don't protect crime bosses, do they?

(Ex-soldiers do)

Oh. So I left the army to become a criminal? That doesn't sound like me...

(You don't have a clue who you are!)

Fair enough.

Right. So we want to work out what's causing the memory loss. And then kill the guy who caused it. Sounds like a plan.

"OK. Sounds good. Eh - do we have coffee?" I ask, as I look through the clothes on the floor. Presumably the combats are mine.

 

 

_I let out a long breath and sag against the door. “Oh *Christ*, Sebastian... yes, we have coffee. Why don’t you take care of that, and I’ll start researching and making calls... ” We start getting dressed, you watching me with a perplexed face. I button up my trousers and just as I start pulling on my shirt, I notice the wall. I freeze, my shirt still rolled over my arms. Painted in your blood is a heart with our initials, over the bed - I had completely forgotten I did it. A strangled sound escapes my lips and I cover my mouth with my hand._

 

 

I'm working out which socks are mine when I hear you give a desperate sound - what's wrong?!

(Awfully protective of him, are you?)

Well yes - I'm his bodyguard and lover -

What are you staring at? I look at the wall -

A heart.

In blood.

JM and SM inside it - our initials.

In blood.

There's blood on the bed too.

And blood on the knife on the nightstand.

I can't believe I didn't notice that before - if only my head wasn't so fuzzy...

Blood.

My blood.

I got hurt here, not somewhere on duty.

That explains all the cuts on my body. That wasn't torture by the people who drugged me -

that was -

"... you!?"

 

 

_“Oh GOD, Sebastian...” how the *fuck* do I explain that? “You’ve heard of BDSM, surely?? Well, we have rather... extreme tastes. It’s a little fucked up but it’s consensual...”_

_Well, *mostly* - shut *up*, Jim. Don’t say anything more... “Sebastian?”_

 

 

I'm looking at you - you're looking flustered - guilty? Not quite - but caught out.

Extreme BDSM. A little fucked up -

_A little!?_

\- but consensual...

Really? I _let myself_ be cut up by you?

You're looking nervous - why do you look nervous? I look at my wrists - marks from restraints.

Hold on -

"You tied me down. You cut me open - drew a heart on the wall with our initials in my blood. Then I wake up and don't remember a thing.

So you tell me that _someone else_ drugged me. Rather than, say, you, before you tied me down and cut me open. Because otherwise how would you have been able to?"

 

 

_"Yes, Sebastian - I did every one of those things *except* drug you. Will you stop drawing perfectly reasonable conclusions based on the fucking evidence and *just search your fucking heart*? What does your gut tell you? That *I'm* a danger to you?" I shove you towards a wall. "I love you! I'm not out to harm you! Well, only in the sexiest ways imaginable and I promise you, you are *fucking* into it!! Think of me whipping you, cutting you, fucking you raw - does it make you feel scared? Or intrigued? Or maybe even... a little turned on?" I stare you at you hard and cross my arms._

 

 

I'm about to shove you back - how _dare_ you -

But then...

Well...

If you put it like that...

To my surprise my cock stirs. Oh great - whose side are _you_ on?!

 _Whipping you, cutting you, fucking you raw_...

My eyes glaze over as my cock tells me that he's on the side of the handsome sexy stranger, thank you very much.

On the other hand - does my gut tell me you are a danger to me? Hell yes. I just don't really seem to care much.

"OK... I guess I _am_ into that... maybe... so - you did all that while I was drugged?!"

 

 

_I try not to show my relief, I just continue to stare at you. "You were drugged *three days ago*. And you, my demanding darling soldier, *insisted* I show you everything we normally do. So yes, you've been thoroughly fucked, you've been lashed, and finally last night, you wanted me to use a knife - which I happily did. And believe me, you *liked* what I did to you, if your orgasm was anything to go by. But I didn't know the drug would - would - wipe your memory *again*!" I howl and sink to the floor._

_"Oh god... why is this happening?" I cover my face, sobbing._

 

 

Oh. That does actually sound kind of nice. I wonder if we could do it again...

Oh. Oh, you appear to be rather sad.

"Jim..." I reach out my hand to your shoulder, sink to my haunches in front of you. "Jim... OK, I believe you. That does sound like something I'd like... and I wish I could remember it. But... damn, that drug sounds like nasty stuff... What is it? And - who gave it to me? And why?"

You're still crying. And it cuts through me. I definitely do _not_ like seeing you sad. I want to kill whatever is making you sad, but - I think we'll get to that bit later.

 

 

_"It's - it's - called Lethe," I sob through my hands. "So fucking poetic. And - and - you e-mailed information about it to yourself... so we could - research it today," I cry harder. "After breakfast. And more sex. It's - all about the drug, and the makers. I just know," I sniffle. "I *know* there's a solution to this... There *has* to be... I need you back, Sebbie... Please - don't be gone..." I say, my voice cracking._

 

 

"Jim... I'm here..." I'm crying too now - huh. You are _really_ affecting me.

"I'm so sorry... this must be really hard on you... I'm sorry I'm not who you need me to be... I'm sure it will be alright... I'm still here, see? I know I don't know who I am... or... what is happening... but... I know I love you... and want to protect you... and have the skills to do so.

Is that... can that be enough for you? For now? Until we've sorted this out?"

I don't have a clue who you are... but I know I would do anything to make you happy...

 

 

_I separate my fingers and peek through my hands. "You -" *sniffle* "love me?"_

_I jump up and hurl myself at you - you actually stumble back from the impact, but you're my big strong soldier and you right yourself and hold me up. I kiss you lightly on the lips, not wanting to force my attentions on you while you're still disoriented. I look up at you, my chin trembling, tears streaming down my face. "Sebastian... I *will* make this right again. I love you too -" *sob* "and yes - it's enough, Tiger..."_

 

 

Oh god... oh god don't do this, you're making me cry even more...

"It's alright, Jim... It's going to be alright..."

The absurdity of the situation is not lost on me - I don't know _anything_ , don't know what's going on except what you told me, and I only get half of that; and here I am, comforting you... when I don't even know who you are. But - my body remembers. My heart remembers. Whatever this drug is, it's only affecting my mind. My heart knows I love you, knows it fucking hurts to see you cry, knows I live to make you happy.

"Jim..."

Such a beautiful name... and - it did stir something in me earlier, didn't it? As did the mention of soldier...

And - well I still remember words - I know I'm speaking English - I know how to shoot that gun I grabbed earlier - I know the names of things - what drugs do, what alcohol does - so weird - I must have learnt my own name before I learnt all that, so how come I can't remember my name but have no trouble identifying this gun as a Sig Sauer?

Is there some special section in your brain that deals with personal stuff, that's been wiped out? But then - I can't remember _any_ events, not just personal ones...

This is doing my head in. And you're calming down a bit. I stroke you, kiss your forehead.

"It's alright... It's all going to be alright..."

 

 

_I sniffle more, hold the back of my hand against my nose. "I’m such a fucking mess... can you bring me a tissue? By the bed..."_

_You bring back several tissues, but you wipe the tears from my eyes with your hand and kiss my forehead again. I blow my nose self-consciously, and you hold out your hand for the tissue before taking it to the bathroom to throw it out. God - I must have made a stellar impression on you so far... but once again, your default mode appears to be to give Jim what he needs. I'm crying again when you return, and you gather me in your strong arms and kiss my hair._

 

 

Right. So. Evaluation:

I’ve lost my memory because of a drug called Lethe which I’ve never heard of.

I’m the lover and bodyguard of a crime boss, who is mad about me, and currently crying because he misses me, and that makes me feel very bad, so I’m mad about him as well probably. (Unless he drugged me and the memory loss is an unwanted side effect from some kind of love drug - something to keep in mind.)

We are in an extreme BDSM relationship and have been for some time, by the look of my body. Which fits with his story.

I’m an ex-soldier.

Some guy drugged me (why?) and now wants to kill both of us.

I have information on this drug, which we are going to research.

I need coffee and a cigarette.

I really need for Jim to stop crying, because maybe then I can stop crying too.

Maybe I should do what you did earlier? Except slightly nicer?

“Jim... it’s alright. It’s going to be alright. We’ll fix this, ok? Just... let’s have coffee, and breakfast, and find out what we can.

It’s going to be alright Jim... you’ll get your Sebastian back...”

 

 

_Just as I’m trying to pull myself together, you say the thing about getting my Sebastian back. I moan, and pull back to look at you._

_“You *are* my Sebastian... I just want you to know *you are*...” I press against you, sniffling into your neck. “For fuck’s sake - I’m a wreck. All you know about me is that I’m a temperamental, weepy mess. The last two days, I’ve been saying over and over to you that I’m not normally like this. At least - I never used to be...” I sigh and take comfort in your hands stroking my back. God - I can’t imagine losing this..._

_“We have coffee, but not breakfast things...” I say in a sad voice. My god, I sound like I’m going to have a meltdown over *breakfast*. Get it fucking together, Moriarty..._

_“There’s a breakfast place around the corner. We could go pick something up...”_

 

 

"Let's have coffee first. Gives us a chance to cool down a bit. We don't want to break down over croissants..."

I keep stroking your back. "I believe you that you're not normally like this. It must be really hard to wake up to a lover not knowing who he is - for the second time, I gather? It's no walk in the park for me either..."

You start crying more at that, and I curse myself - shouldn't have said that.

"Coffee." I say decisively. "Where is this coffee? Could you show me the kitchen?"

 

 

_I go grab some more tissues, wipe away my tears and blow my nose. I look at you and instinctively I hold out my hand. I didn’t think of it until I did it but this was quite a gamble, given my current emotional state - if you don’t take it, the rejection will crush me. But with only the slightest hesitation you walk over, take my hand, and give it a comforting squeeze. I squeeze back without bursting into tears again, which I consider quite the accomplishment._

_I lead you to the kitchen, which looks dingy and bare._

_“This isn’t our apartment,” I say mournfully. “The wanker who drugged you knows our location so we couldn’t return home... Coffee here, coffee maker there...”_

 

 

I look at the coffee and maker - I'm not quite sure how it works but I'm sure I can work it out...

You see me looking, and jump in. "I'll do it. Why don't you have a seat."

I sit at the table, rummage through my pocket for cigarettes and a lighter, light one.

That's better...

"So - this guy who drugged me and now wants to kill us - why did he drug me? Why didn't he just kill me in the first place, if he was close enough to drug me? And what was he trying to achieve? This Lethe - is it a memory loss drug, or was that a side effect? Speaking of side effects - anything else I can look forward to?"

 

 

_I relax slightly. Information. Yes. Familiar territory, unlike boyfriends with chronic amnesia, and sobfests for days. “The guy is Francis Pott - part of the Irish mob in New York. He was part of an elaborate plot that involved several people, who are now dead.”_

_You look questioningly at me and point to yourself and to me. I smile wryly. “We both killed them. Yesterday. As for why he slipped you the drug instead of killing you - we figure he wanted to throw me off by someone getting to you and discovering where I lived - so I would be off my game during this huge deal that was supposed to be going down in a warehouse last night, where I would be poisoned and die later. And you’d be framed for it. Didn’t happen, what with the warehouse being blown up...”_

_Again, you point to yourself and to me. I grin. “That one we delegated. We decided to have a bit of a celebratory evening - it wasn’t all blood and whips. There was also kissing and cuddling and blow jobs and a lovey shower, and some spectacular fucking on the bathroom floor...” I trail off and stare at the coffeemaker as coffee brews. “I’m sorry you don’t remember that...” I say wistfully._

 

 

"So am I. Sounds like something I would really enjoy remembering," I say, vexed. "I suppose you could remind me at some point..."

I ponder about the killings yesterday. "So... have I killed a lot of people?"

 

 

_"God *yes*, darling… You're not just my bodyguard, you're also my best assassin and sniper. And in answer to your other questions... Pott is trying to take over our territory in an effort to make a power play within his own organization. As far as we know, Lethe is a memory loss drug, very new - I have no idea about the other side effects, we were going to find out everything we could today - as well as track down the makers so we can determine a treatment plan. Coffee's ready - you take yours black. Mine is milk and sugar, but there's no milk - so just sugar will do..."_

_You prepare our mugs, and hand me mine. Our fingertips brush as I take the mug. I have to dig my nails into my palm to not start crying again. But you're looking at me with that face I know so well. You desire me... of *course* you do. Memory loss or not, you're my Tiger, through and through. I drink from my mug, watching you and barely tasting the terrible coffee._

 

 

Huh. I'm an assassin and sniper? I kill people for a living?

Wow. I mean - I haven't really met any people - I can imagine people in general, but no one specific. Except you, and I love you.

I guess I'll have to hold out on how I feel about other people until I've met some... I could definitely kill this Pott fellow. He made you cry.

My fingers touch yours as I give you your coffee and _oh_. Oh my. A shock travels through my fingers, straight up my arm, ignores my brain with a passing nod, and heads straight to my cock.

Oh god.

I forget the coffee that I had been dying for a moment ago, stare at you. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Wait. That's not as impressive as it sounds.

Still.

 

 

_I wanted to give you space._

_But you're looking at me like I'm the most beautiful, desirable creature on the planet. Which I *am* - but it's good that you recognize it._

_I should really give you space._

_I put down my coffee mug with a thump and launch myself at your lips._

_*Tiger*..._

_Dimly I hear your mug crash to the floor and coffee splashes everywhere._

_Neither of us break off from the kiss to react._

 

 

Oh. Handsome sexy stranger is on my lap and on my lips. I like this... is this how we wake up every morning? Must be bad for the crockery...

There's coffee on the floor, the chair is too small... table.

Your mug joins mine on the floor as I get up and lay... well... throw you onto the table, pounce onto you kissing, grabbing, stroking... fuck you're hot and I don't know what's happening but my body is _very_ aware of what it wants, so I'll just let it tell me, shall I?

 

 

_And now there's more coffee spilling on the floor, and I'm being thrown on the table by a very randy Tiger..._

_Well, this has been a fascinating turn of events. You lose your memory (again), I convince you I'm not to blame, we both cry our eyes out, and now I'm being manhandled and mounted on a kitchen table._

_"God... Sebastian..."_

_I wrap my arms around your neck, and my legs around your waist. *Yes*, Tiger... *manhandle me*..._

 

 

Well handsome stranger _(Jim!)_ seems into this. And I most certainly am. It gets confusing when I try to think of it too much so I'll just go with the flow... fortunately that's not hard.

"Jim... Fuck, Jim, you're so hot... I got excellent taste, I must say..."

Your hands are clawing at my shirt, I pull it off. Yours follows soon after, hands reach for buttons, zips, as our chests touch, and then our cocks are free, rubbing against each other like two friends who are overjoyed to meet again. _Fuck_ I want you - _you need lubricant_ , my mind helpfully provides before I plunge into you and potentially hurt you. Oh great - that's not going to be here, is it?

I pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, fortunately nearby, throw you onto the bed - there's lube on the nightstand, probably from last night, like all the blood - fuck, I wish I could remember!

 

 

_Oh god, oh god, I *need* this... you’ve been taken away from me too many times. I’m feeling quite frantic about getting your clothing off so we can fuck each other senseless. And then you’re picking me up like you’re a brave soldier rescuing me, and you are, you *are*... save me from feeling bereft of you, Tiger... and now I’m being thrown to the bed, and *fuck* I love aggro Seb, no matter how controlling I was about it in the past. Maybe *because* I love it..._

_I sit up to grab at you, to pull you down onto me. Don’t make me wait, Seb... I *need* you..._

 

 

I’m kissing and grabbing you all over; you’re so fucking sexy and I _need_ you... and you need me by the feel of things.

I don’t know exactly what we usually do, except apparently cutting each other open, but I’m sure you’ll tell me if I’m doing something wrong. For now you’re pulling me down onto you and are frantically groping me, and I’m grabbing lube, putting my finger inside you - god, so warm and tight, I can’t wait - you’re moving, pushing yourself onto me, another finger follows, is that enough for you?

You’re biting my neck and it feels great, makes me moan; also makes me _really_ want to get inside you, inside that amazingly hot sweet arse, so I put some lube on my cock, press against you, and you push down and oh god... oh my god... oh how can anything feel this _good_...

 

 

_And now you're pushing into me slowly, and fuuuuck that feels amazing, oh *god*, I felt so empty without our bond even for the short period of time we've been awake - fifteen minutes? Twenty?_

_"Oh *Christ*, just - fuck me, Seb!" I groan, and push hard against you._

 

 

Well. That I can do...

I really hit the jackpot, haven't I? You are incredibly hot...

And this feels - oh god it feels - incredible. I don't remember anything, but I think I can safely say that sex is the best thing ever. Especially sex with you... not that I have anything to compare to, but my body is _so_ attuned to yours, my heart is so mad about you, my cock is so keen for you...

I groan, shiver as I slide deeper inside you. Oh god...

 

 

_My eyes widen as I feel your hard cock move deep inside me._

_In this moment, I'm a beautiful, mysterious stranger that you feel inexplicably drawn to. You've known me for *minutes*, and you've decided to trust me even though you woke up in a bloody bedroom, cut up to hell... you declared your love to me... and you threw me down like your quarry and started fucking me. God, *Seb* - don't ever change._

_"Fuck, I love you," I moan, as you drive yourself into me. "My fucking magnificent Tiger..."_

 

 

I wonder why you call me Tiger... I'll have to ask you when I have the power of speech again. At the moment growls and groans are all that my throat is capable of.

I hope you like it hard, because I am reaching the limit of my capacity for going slow... I mean, I _could_ , but I really quite desperately don't want to...

I bite your neck, growl into it, and move deeply inside you... _fuck_ , that's so _good_...

To my surprise, I taste blood. Oh god, sorry Jim... Well - it could be classed as payback, I guess... but I move my teeth out of your neck, kiss it, lick up the blood - that seems to only encourage me further - oh god I'm as fucked up as you are, am I? Oh well - found a good match then.

 

 

_*Someone's* getting carried away... did you *break my skin*? My goodness, Tiger... already racking up reasons for punishment? By all means, drink my blood - you're already down for a thrashing._

_I weave my fingers through your hair, and pull your head off my neck. "No marks, darling..." I purr. "Not in visible places...unless you *want* to be punished?"_

_I shove your head back to my neck. Then I tighten my arms around you and grind hard against your pelvis._

 

 

"...sorry" I manage to vocalize as I'm getting slowly more and more lost in a blurry realm of animal lust and passion. Nothing exists except for my cock and my heart, and you, you, _you_...

My eyes are screwing shut, I'm kissing your neck (carefully not letting my teeth join in); my fingers dig into your hips as you're grinding against me - oh fuck this is fucking _amazing_...

I feel sensations concentrating in my pelvis... so good...

"JHRRimmnggg..." I growl.

 

 

_We're both groaning loudly, as you thrust into me and I push hard against you. You follow my cue, and go harder._

_Yes, fuck me *raw* - my angst is sky-high, and I need aggression. I dig my nails into your arse, and yank your hips against me._

_I throw my head back, and moan as you pound me into the mattress. "Oh *fuck*, Tiger... *yes*..."_

 

 

You, all around me. You, around my cock, around my heart, around my soul... you're pulling me closer, your nails are digging in, you're _everywhere, everything..._

God I love you...

The last thing I hear before I fall into a pit of blackness is my voice roaring my orgasm into the world.

 

 

_That orgasm sounded *amazing*... time for you to take care of *me*._

_You’ve collapsed onto me, and you’re not moving._

_“Oof.” I push your shoulder. “Get off me, you big lump… It’s *my turn*.”_

_Nothing._

_My heart starts beating faster before it dawns on me that something isn’t right._

_“No. No NO NO!!” I shout._

_I grab your face in my hands._

_You’ve blacked out again..._

_“Sebastian... *no*...” I whisper._

_I gently roll you off me, and stare at your beautiful face._

_“Why do you keep *doing this* to me!” I shriek. I cover my face with my hands and breathe, pull myself together._

_Last time you just came to on your own... Do I let you do the same? But - what if you *don’t*?? I’ll never forgive myself!_

_I gently pat your face, and shout your name._

_Nothing. I burst into tears. Oh, good... this will help me think clearly._

_“Tiger, Tiger... please please *please* come back...” I sob against your chest._

 

 

I wake from a deep dreamless sleep to a Jim sobbing.

Jim sobbing!?

Alarm - Jim's in trouble - do something -

Why can't I move?!!

I need to help JIM!!! Damn it!!!

Is this some other effect from that blasted drug!? I'll kill the whole lot of them - stop holding me from Jim!!!

Your sobs sound so desperate - you're saying my name - your tears are falling on my chest - God DAMN IT...

With an almighty effort I manage to extricate myself from the black tar that's holding me down and open my eyes, move my mouth -

"...zhim? hue white?"

 

 

_My eyes fly open at the sound of your voice._

_“Sebastian??” I grab you, stare at your face... and hug you to me fiercely._

_“Oh, thank *Christ*... you *have* to stop doing that, darling... Or I will *kill* you!!” Tears still streaming down my cheeks, I cover your face with kisses._

_“Are you all right?” I demand. “How do you feel?!”_

 

 

"... right.. justa bit.. hid... fussy..." I'm trying to do words, but they're not coming out the way they are supposed to. I look at you; you look in a right state - what happened? We went to bed after great sex and...

No wait...

There was something else...

No that was a dream - wasn't it?

I woke up and remembered nothing _again_ \- and then we had coffee and fucked -

Was that real? Did I dream that? Should I ask you? Can I fucking _talk_ , bloody head paralysis or whatever you are!?

"zhim... dweeve coffee?"

 

 

_“Coffee? Yes, let me - wait. I need to know you’re OK. I should take you to my doctor...” I place my hand on your cheek._

 

 

No, I don't want coffee - I want to know - what is real, what is a dream -

I try to sit up. Fortunately most of my muscles seem to obey quite well, it's just the mouth that refuses. I take my jaw, move it about a bit - it feels normal, not numb. Concentrate, Sebastian...

"No - did we coffee? An... fuck?"

 

 

_“We started to have coffee, and then the coffee was interrupted by fucking. So there’s coffee all over the floor, but there’s some still in the pot. Why?”_

 

 

So that wasn't a dream? I actually did wake up with _all_ my memory gone _again!?_ Fuck...

And then we fucked and - I must have blacked out - and now I have my memory back? Or - some of it, at least - all of it that I had yesterday - as far as I can remember, at least...

 _Fuckkkkk_ , this is draining... and kind of frightening. I was not _that_ fussed about my memory loss earlier, because, well, it brought me you. But if it keeps happening at random - and if I keep fucking _blacking out_ at random... panicking you... and freezing my fucking _speech_...

"Jim..." at least it seems to be getting marginally better... "I member yesday. An- before. Not all. But - like yesday. Not like uller."

 

 

_I stare at you. "You... remember from before this morning?" I pounce on you, relieved. I'm about to cover with you with kisses again, when realization dawns on me, and I start to panic. "What is going on with your speech? I don't like this. I'm taking you to my doctor..." I jump up and start throwing clothes at you. "Get dressed."_

 

 

“Gimme moment,” I say irritated. I understand you’re worried - hell, I’m worried - but I’m getting better, I just need a second to get everything lined up.

“Jus - fie minutes. Sa coffee?” I look at you pleadingly. Just give me a moment Jim... I’ll be alright...

 

 

_I stare hard at you. "Get dressed. I'll get your coffee. You have five minutes, and then we're going. This isn't something to be dismissive about, it's your *mind*." I caress your face and kiss you. I give you a long look, my hand still on your face... then I pull on my pants and leave for the kitchen._

_One foot in front of the other, Jim. Do not curl into a ball, do not start sobbing again, it's *not going to help*!_

_I look at the broken mugs on the floor in a pool of coffee, and tears fill my eyes. I'll deal with it later - if I have to clean up anything that's shattered, it'll be way too metaphoric for my mental health. I edge past the mess, and with blurred vision I pour two more cups of coffee. I use a paper towel to dry my eyes, and splash cold water on my face. I take a moment to breathe._

_When I bring the coffee in, you're dressed and looking at the bloody heart on the wall with our initials._

 

 

“So _that_ what you drawing. I was wonder.” I frown. The words sound better, but they don’t all come out and they’re not all the right words.

I take the coffee from you.

I’m not happy about this - I appear to be at the mercy of some stupid drug that keeps making me worse - what if it’s deteriorating? What if one day I just don’t wake up? Or I wake up and I can’t speak, or move, or see?!

“Jim...” I turn to you, the ruler of my life, my Lord... be my saviour too?

“I scare, Jim...”

 

 

_Ice water is running through my veins - I'm sure of it. I keep myself from showing the horror that I'm feeling, the mind-numbing fear... Sebastian doesn't fear death, doesn't fear bodily harm, doesn't even fear the monster that is me... to hear you say you're scared..._

_Oh, Seb... my beautiful Seb, with your clever, snarky, sarcastic mouth - I would give anything in my Empire to hear you give me lip right now... and my entire Empire to make you better..._

_"Shh, darling -" I kiss your forehead. "There's nothing to fear, because I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you hear me, my love? The universe bends to my desires, and *this is no different*. Now. Finish your coffee, while I call the doctor to let her know we're on our way. We'll forward the drug information to her - it's doubtful she's heard of it, but if there's anything in there about the chemical components, that may help her be able to direct us. And in the meantime, we'll also contact the maker of the drug to set up a meeting - that's our best lead, I just don't want to us to be running around without knowing about any medical issues we need to be aware of... All right, Tiger?" I look into your eyes, and kiss you fiercely._

 

 

You are reassuring... I'm still scared though, because I can see that you're just barely keeping it together yourself, and I am only too aware of the fact that you don't know what's going on any more than I am...

But feeling your determination is making me feel a bit better, because if _anyone_ can fix this, you can... You are powerful, strong-minded, and fucking _lethal_ if anyone doesn't do what you want. I'll just have to hope that this is a situation that any human can fix...

You're all touchy-feely during the ride to the doctor, so different from last time... My Jim...

I _have_ to get on top form again. You _need_ me. I could live with me dying... but leaving Jim Moriarty in the hands of lesser men? Never.

 


	16. More Violets, More Emotion

_I pace in the examination room as the doctor performs several tests on you. She reads through the drug information we sent, and shakes her head._

 

_"This is outside my level of expertise, so I'll set up an appointment for you with a neurologist. Luckily, we have several excellent ones in the city..." she disappears into her office to make a call._

 

_You sit on the examination table, a tall muscular soldier looking as lost as a little boy. It tugs at my heartstrings so hard, I nearly start crying then and there._

_Maybe I should be asking the doctor for a prescription while I’m here – can I make a request for laudanum? It sounds so much more romantic than any modern medicine. OK, now I’m clearly going off the deep end – not only I’m crying at the drop of a hat, but I’m basing my drug diagnoses on poetic flights of fancy._

_You see me deep in thought and reach out your hand – I take it and you pull me toward you. I wrap my arms around you and lean my head against your chest. I listen to your strong heartbeat, and feel your hand caressing my hair. This is how the doctor finds us when she returns to the room._

 

_“I was able to get you in today,” she says, waving a referral at me. “I don’t think you should delay.”_

 

_“Oh, are we rhyming?” I say innocently. “Let me just pay, and we’ll be out of your way...”_

 

_You snort. The very no-nonsense doctor presses the note into my hand. “I’ll invoice you as always. Have a nice day,” she adds, rolling her eyes._

_She escorts us out, and touches your arm. “Try not to worry. The doctor I’m sending you to is renowned in her field.”_

 

_“Thank you...” you say carefully and smile at her, then follow me into the waiting room._

 

_You sounded normal for a moment, I think wistfully. I take your hand and lead you to the waiting car. Once I give the address to the driver, I’m already calling the phone number for the maker of the drug that I tracked down on the ride over. I squeeze your hand as the phone rings on the other end._

 

 

I’m trying to keep it together, because if I break down you’ll go to pieces, but I’m not happy. The speech still isn’t right - how do we speak normally? You think of a concept and it just flows out, without effort, doesn’t it? And now - I think normally, it doesn’t feel like there’s anything wrong inside my head, but when I speak the words just aren’t right. And I don’t like the look the doctor had... she really looked worried. Probably more about herself than me - Jim doesn’t strike me as a man who deals well with failure - but it means she doesn’t know how to fix me. And I need to be fixed - I’m getting really tired of this shit.

You phone the drug manufacturers - I am not a religious man (I think - though who knows?) but I pray anyway, to whoever will listen - please let them know of something to stop the effects of the drug. To reverse them, even... to make my mind my own again.

 

 

_I get passed from one person to another. I don't want to drop my name yet, in case someone from this organization is in on the plan. So instead, I'm hinting at placing an enormous order if someone can answer my questions about the chemical components... And so far, no one's cutting it._

_"Look," I say, speaking in a British accent (only slightly posh) and covering my face with my hand. "I need to speak to the person who developed this drug in the first place. I don't need you to read long, boring words from a document that you clearly don't understand. I'll just have to place my order with your competitor instead. Thank you for trying."_

_"Sir, wait! We don't have any competitors..." the man on the phone says quickly. "We developed this drug, and we're the *only* manufacturer..."_

 

_"Oh. Is *that* what you've been told..." I say, infusing my voice with amusement which I am certainly not feeling._

 

_There's a pause on the phone. "If there's another manufacturer, the head of the organization would certainly like to know about it..." the man says carefully. "Would you..."_

 

_"I'm happy to spill the beans to anyone who can give me the information I'm seeking, and to no one else," I say, tightening my hand on your thigh. You rub my back reassuringly._

 

_"Please hold," the man says meekly._

 

_A moment later, there's another voice on the phone. "Research and Development," an American voice says, sounding bored._

 

_"Hello - I'm looking to make a rather large order, but I need some information first about the drug's side effects. Are you the man to speak to?"_

 

_"I developed the drug, so - no one knows more than me," he says boastfully. Oh... who's the little man all puffed up with pride..._

 

_"Well, I have to say - I've heard what the drug can do, and I'm *very* impressed..." I say, spinning my web. "You must be *so* good at what you do!"_

 

_"Thank you - well, when I hear this kind of feedback, it makes all the years of hard work worth it..."_

 

_What are you looking for, an award for best illegal drug of the year? I search my memory map for a name of a drug developer who he might feel cowed by._

_"Oh my - you're like the next Perry Seymour..." I say, sounding excited._

 

_"Perry Seymour? That has-been? All his best work is behind him," he says scathingly. "I'm William Pott. That's the name to watch..."_

 

_"William *Pott*... that’s definitely a name to follow." I widen my eyes at you, and you start looking up the name on your phone. "So, William... I have some uses in mind for your drug, but it's very important that I'm aware of all the side effects, because it will determine how we use it... Also - are the effects reversible?"_

 

_"Well, the results vary - memory usually comes back. But not always completely, and not in every case. We do have a detox drug that I adjusted with Lethe in mind. It helps the body break down the drug, which means your memory comes back more quickly. Call it the Mnemosyne effect. See, we get the names from Greek mythology. Lethe means *oblivion* - "_

 

_"Yes, I'm familiar... how poetic!” I interrupt. "So! This other drug... how long would it take to have it shipped to London?”_

 

_“You’ll be ordering Lethe as well?”_

 

_“Yes - a large order of both.”_

_He chuckles. "Eager to start playing God? It helps to have the right little pills, am I right?” He laughs a bit maniacally. Jesus. Francis Pott’s brother or cousin or whatever is not quite right, is he..._

 

_“A large order will take several weeks. Smaller order - 5-7 days.”_

 

_“A sample size by tomorrow.” I say firmly. “The large order to follow in several weeks.”_

 

_“Oh, we don’t really do that... I’d have to check with the head of the organization...”_

 

_“You can’t get a few little pills here by tomorrow?” I fake a surprised laugh. “Where are you, the Himalayas?”_

 

_“Of course not,” he says, sounding pompous. “New York.”_

 

_“Oh, New York... shouldn’t be a problem, surely!” I look at you with concern. If it *is* a problem... can we risk a trip to New York in your condition?_

 

 

When you ask if the effects are reversible, I hardly dare breathe as I look at your face, strain trying to hear the voice on the other side, but the car is too noisy. I see relief cross your face - oh thank _fuck_...

You ask how long it would take to have it shipped to London and appear to be negotiating times. They're in New York and his name is Pott? Wouldn't it be... I don't know, poetic or something, if he's our Pott's cousin?

Google gives loads of William Potts, but no way to see which one is our man. I try William Pott + chemistry, which throws up a list of 1990 Columbia University graduates, one of whom is William Pott. After that, nothing. Which would make sense if he busied himself in his cousin's emporium developing illegal drugs.

I look at you anxiously, hoping you can get the counterdrug here. I'll fucking swim to New York if I have to in order to get it.

 

 

_"It's not delivery that's the issue..." William says uneasily. "It's the sample size... we don't do that with unknown clients."_

 

_I'm *not* waiting 5-7 days, Willie. I'm fucking *not*._

_"Well, how fortuitous that I'll be travelling to New York on business tomorrow... " I say with delight._

 

_"Fortui- what?"_

 

_"Lucky." Just not for Francis, I think with satisfaction. Hello, two birds... meet one stone. "So, if we arrange a meeting, then I won't be an unknown client, is that right?"_

 

_"I don't know..." William says slowly. "It's not usually done this way..."_

 

_"I understand. Listen, if I get you a referral from my business associate Joey Russo, will we be acquainted enough to meet?"_

 

_"You know Joey Russo?" William sounds suitably impressed with my knowing a high-ranking mafioso. If you only had a clue about who you were already talking to, Willie... my name carries far more weight than you could ever imagine..._

 

_"Oh, we go back at least ten years. My name is Adam Black - I'll have Mr Russo contact you shortly. Shall we say roughly tomorrow afternoon, then? I'll call to confirm details."_

 

_"All right. I'm not usually involved with the sales side, but - I think my uncle will be pretty pleased with a big order. I'm getting pretty bored being stuck in the lab all the time..." he confides._

 

_"That does sound dull. Maybe this will be a new sideline for you, William. You did great today..." I roll my eyes at you, and you grin at me._

 

_"Thank you, Mr Black... I'm looking forward to meeting tomorrow!"_

 

_"Me too, William. See you then." Idiot._

 

_I turn to you. "I gather you pieced that together. We either have to go to New York, or I have to send someone to pose as me. But I'm not sure you should be travelling in your condition..."_

 

 

"We're going to New York," I state. With relief I realize that that sentence came out the way I wanted it to. I had been rehearsing it in my head, playing it a couple of times before I said it, and it worked. Small victories.

I can't really argue much more, and I don't think you want to. We're both dying to get our hands on this drug.

 

"We'll see what the neurologist says," you decide, and I can accept that.

 

"OK," I acknowledge. Another perfect, albeit rather short, statement.

I want to ask - damn, why is every vocalization suddenly a struggle?!

"Did say - " did _he_ say, damn it, why are words just _dropping_ between my brain and my fucking tongue?! "anything bout side facts?"

 

 

_I want to punch the window of the car. "I was so fixated on the detox drug, I fucking forgot to ask. Bloody fucking hell. Let me call him back."_

_I wave off your half-hearted protests, make the call and ask to speak to William Pott._

_"William. Adam Black again. So sorry to disturb..."_

 

_"Mr Black," he says in surprise. "What can I do for you?"_

 

_"We got a bit side-tracked with the detox drug. I need to let my organization know everything there is to know about this drug in order to place such a large order. What side effects can we expect other than memory loss?"_

 

_"Oh. Well, that varies. too. In some people the temporal lobe is most affected - they lose emotional control, because they don't remember how to handle their feelings - they may get angry or sad or violent at the drop of a hat. If their cerebrum is more affected, they may act in dangerous and reckless ways, because they don't remember how to conduct themselves safely and with common sense. Some people have neurological lapses in the frontal lobe - they don't remember words, or how to construct sentences or how to use correct grammar. And then in some extreme cases, it's everything. The good news is things go back to normal for most people. The bad news is, well... not everyone lives to see that because they're getting violent or acting recklessly or they start freaking out when their speech goes wonky and things fall apart emotionally after that. Does that help?"_

 

_"Great, they'll be thrilled..." I enthuse. My heart is pounding. "And there's nothing to be done other than wait or take the detox drug, is that right?"_

 

_"Well, we haven't been treating symptoms in our test groups... that's not exactly high on the priority list when you consider why people might be using this drug..." he snickers, and I picture myself giving him a massive dose of the drug - hmm. Wonder what that would look like..._

 

_"Right, got it. You've been a big help, William... thanks so much."_

 

_"No problem., Mr Black... See you tomorrow!" Willie seems pleased as punch with his new sideline in client sales and relations. He has no idea Uncle Francis will be furious... but shortly thereafter Uncle Francis will be dead, so it all comes out in the wash._

 

_I relay this information to you. "I suggest we keep the appointment with the neurologist... he may be able to suggest something Willie hasn't thought of yet. I need to contact Joey Russo to send a referral, then make travel arrangements, and we'll swing by the shitty apartment to pick up a few things on the way to the airport. Tiger... are you *sure* you're feeling up to this?" I start doubting the plan. "What if you black out or lose your memory again while we're on the plane, or while we're in America...?"_

 

 

“If happens,” fuck’s sake Sebastian, _pronouns!_ I continue slowly, building a sentence in my head, then recalling and pronouncing word by word. It’s exhausting, and must be dead tiring to listen to...

“Do you want I here or there? With guy made the fucking stuff? I am ill of shit!”

I punch the fucking door. It’s excessively infuriating not to be able to _express_ myself and sounding like a fucking dimwit! Let’s fly to the US _now_ and get that fucking detox before I explode...

I look at you pleadingly. “Please, Jim... I want better.”

 

 

_I am *not* an empathetic man. As a rule, I have not a drop of compassion for *anyone*._

_But seeing you this way..._

_My heart is squeezing so painfully, it's taking my breath away._

_Some *feeling* is building up in me, and I'm resisting it, pushing it down, but it won't - stop - coming -_

_Oh god..._

_my *POOR, SWEET TIGER*!!!_

_I take your face in my hands and kiss you passionately. "I want that too, my darling - and it *will* happen, never fear. And I'm going to arrange a private jet for us, so we don't need to worry about the usual travel annoyances. It'll be just you and me in a lovely bubble, cuddling and watching films and napping... and whatever else we want to get up to under a blanket while the flight attendant is told to stay in the fucking galley."_

_You sag against me with relief, and I gather you in my arms._

_"Don't you worry about anything, my sweet Tiger... I'll take care of this. We'll see if the neurologist can give you anything that'll help, and then you'll take the detox drug tomorrow. Trust me - you will be yourself again. And if I have to sit in a lab with a flame-thrower while Willie Potts develops a new drug to make that happen, I'll do it - however long it takes."_

_I feel your heartbeat against me, I feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe in deeply and exhale. Life in my hands, so fragile, so vulnerable... I haven't felt this way about anyone since... no. I am *not losing you, too*._

_Another feeling, a familiar feeling, rises from the depths like a serpent, and Empathy wisely runs away and hides. I am pulsing with venom, I am the vicious embodiment of Fury and Hate... and this has always been the best way to bend the universe to my will. To cease being Jim._

_Because Moriarty always, always gets what he wants._

 

_"No one gets to me... not in any way that counts..." I say softly into your ear. "So no one's taking my Tiger away - it's Not. Going. To. Happen. When you're yourself again, we are going to play such fun games with Francis Pott..." I smile tenderly as I caress your hair. "It's going to be a scream! Trust me, darling. You'll want to be in *top* form for that..."_

 

 

"I see ford to that," I blunder. Oh fuck it. I'm not going to say anything until we're in New York. It's so incredibly disempowering not to be able to say what you want to - it's like being stuck behind a one-way mirror, being able to see everything happening around you, but being unable to interact. I can move, but I want to fucking _speak_.

We get to a hospital where we are quickly seen by a neurologist. You explain the situation – drug-induced amnesia – and she nods thoughtfully, then starts her examination.

She puts down some objects on her desk and asks me to pick up the pen and then the paperclip. There's nothing wrong with my hearing, but I guess she needs to check everything and there's no use in getting exasperated with this doctor who is my best chance for now, so I patiently do as she says.

She then asks me to walk around her office counterclockwise and tap the picture of a bear on her wall. I manage not to roll my eyes as I do so while you watch me with intense scrutiny and she scribbles things.

She invites me to sit down again and asks me to repeat the words she says. "Teapot." "Teapot," I reply. Single words are not so hard. "Raptor." "Raptor." "Turbulence." Damn. "Tur-bu-lence," I manage with concentration.

 

"The boy is playing the piano," she says.

 

OK. That's longer and harder. _The boy is playing the piano, the boy is playing the piano, the boy is playing the piano_... "The boy is plane the piano." Nearly perfect. Well done Seb.

 

Next she asks me to name as many animals as I can in a minute. OK, single words again, that should be doable?

"Tiger. Cat. Dog. Chair. What?!" Where did _that_ come from?! I wanted to say horse!

 

She nods at me. "Just continue."

 

Fuck. OK. "Sheep. Goat. Crow. Mag-pie. Mouse. Rat. Fly. Bee. Wasp," I squeeze out, checking every word just before it leaves my mouth.

 

She nods, "Thank you. That will do. Now, could you please tell me about the way here? How did you come, how long did it take you, did you notice anything, what did you do on the way - just tell me.”

Ah. Free speech. My weak spot. I concentrate on forming a sentence, but she interrupts me.

"Don't work too hard on making it perfect - I need to hear how you talk when you're trying to speak spontaneously."

 

I sigh. "We came car from Pinko. Pim-li-co," I frown.

She gestures to keep speaking.

"It took a big time, because traffic's crowded. I talk with Jim - try to, because it's solid. Hard. I'm worry. I hate this," tears start streaming, damn it, really Sebastian? In front of a _stranger?_ "I want speak!!" I raise my voice, but force myself to calm down – this doctor is trying to help, be nice.

 

“I understand, Sebastian,” she says. “You are doing very well, thank you. I’d like to do a few physical tests now, if I may?”

Don’t fucking _patronize_ me, woman –

Calm down, Seb, she’s not patronizing you. She’s being nice and professional. Just collaborate.

She asks me to smell two patches and if they smell the same or different – “Diffrent.” – for my eyes to follow her finger, smile, frown, lift my right arm and left arm, point to which direction a sound is coming from – none of this is any problem.

Then she has me stand, move, lift objects, push the wall; she ticks me with a hammer, touches me in different places while I have my eyes closed and have to point when she touches and where, asks me to touch certain areas of my body myself – all goes fine. I’m half relieved – does this mean it’s not too bad?

She asks me to sit down again. You are on the edge of your seat, looking ready to kill her if she doesn’t give us a solution _now_.

“I can’t say much without further research – the next logical step would be a brain scan,” she starts.

 

“We have no time.” you reply curtly.

 

She raises her eyebrows. “I was under the impression you wanted your associate’s health thoroughly investigated.”

 

“Just tell us if there’s anything we can do now. We are going to meet with the manufacturer soon and he has a detox drug that should flush out his system and make this all go away.”

 

She frowns. “I strongly advise against taking another untested drug on top of the earlier one, especially if you don’t know the full effects of the first one.”

 

 

_I struggle to remain patient. “I understand you would feel compelled to give a conservative answer when you don’t have all the data. I do. But do you have any treatments in mind that you *could* conceive of using, depending what appeared on the scan? And when is the absolute soonest we could schedule a scan?”_

 

 

She sighs, looks on her computer. "Scheduling a scan takes time..."

"You know as well as I do that there are always _options_..." you growl.

She sighs again, turns back to us. "To be honest, I can't tell unless I've seen - but there are no quick fixes to something like this. If it were a natural neurological incident, we would have to follow a therapy plan, training you to speak again. This is something that has had good results in the past; and with you being so young and _hopefully_ nothing permanently damaged in the brain, I would be confident about the results. But we don't know about any brain damage until we've had a scan.

And with it being the result of some undocumented drug - there is nothing we can say, but there certainly isn't anything I can recommend at the moment that would improve the situation in a very short time span."

"We going to York." I state. Oh yeah, sure, go to York, it's lovely this time of year.

You look at me dubiously. Damn it - if only I could fucking _speak_...

"She has no know. No know the drug. Don't want terrapin." FUCK!!! "Terrapy. I want to can speak again Jim! New York! Now!"

 

 

_I place my hand on your back, rub it reassuringly. "Shhh, darling - we're going to New York, we just needed to know all our options..."_

_I turn again to the doctor. "So. There's nothing else you can recommend, I take it? Please schedule the scan, we'll want to check everything out when we're back from New York, anyway."_

_She regards me. "Mr Black, if I might speak to you alone for a moment?"_

 

_"Why don't you sit in the waiting room for a moment, darling? I say to you with a meaningful look._

_You look at us for a long moment and slip out of the room._

 

_The doctor sighs. "Well, if I can't convince you not to try the drug... you might want to take a mild sedative with you, in case he gets agitated. Especially for the trip. Here's a sample, it's not contraindicated by the condition and it won't react adversely to the drug that's already in his system. And here's a prescription for more if needed. I'll call you with the details for the scan, and I strongly urge you to bring him - regardless of what you decide about this other drug..."_

 

_I take the small box and the slip of paper. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," I say, and leave without another word. As I suspected - she really didn't do anything, but I feel relieved at having you checked out._

_You're pacing in the empty waiting room when I come out, and you turn and head for the door immediately. I follow you quickly. We wait inside the front door of the medical building as I text the driver, and then quickly make arrangements for a private jet. I don't want the driver to hear anything, just in case._

_"Our flight will be a red-eye tonight, Tiger - we'll swing by the apartment to pack and rest for a bit before we go. And by tomorrow afternoon, you'll have the drug, my sweet..." You seem relieved but remain silent as we walk to the car that pulls up to the curb._

_"We need to eat something. We never had breakfast," I say, realization dawning on me. I could go days without remembering to eat, but you? You like to shovel food into your face at regular intervals, or you start to whine. Best not add that stress to an already fucked up situation. "Something hearty for you, Tiger? Fish and chips?" I take your hand in mine and give it a squeeze. Fish is brain food, I think desperately._

 

 

Don’t you _fucking_ shh, darling me, Jim Moriarty - why is it that when you have trouble expressing yourself people treat you like a fucking child?

And then the doctor wants to talk to you alone. Sure. Don’t let me worry my pretty little head about it. It’s only my mind.

I walk off, not protesting, but inwardly seething.

What is she telling you? That it’s hopeless and to make my last day a pleasant one? That I’m deteriorating irreversibly and here’s an address for a good home, no expenses spared?

You walk out - you look determined rather than desperate, so I hope it’s not too bad.

You get your phone out, make arrangements, I’m silent - I want to talk with you, but not in public.

“I want to go to New York,” I pout. I’d been rehearsing that. I don’t want to wait until tonight - I don’t want to fall asleep on a plane and maybe wake up without speech or sight or memory.

I’m not hungry - I guess I should eat, but my stomach is filled up with worry.

“What did doctor want? What not loud know?”

 

 

_I look at you for just a moment before deciding lying is out of the question. “She gave me a sedative for you, and a prescription for more. I’m sorry, that must have seemed so patronizing- I should have insisted you stay, but I had no idea what she was going to tell me - and there’s something else you should know. I was going to wait until we got to the apartment to tell you._

_There are a few potential side effects you need to be aware of - less emotional control and less impulse control. So, you may find yourself getting easily upset or violent or acting recklessly. I took the sedative, just in case. But I want you to know - I would only use it I was genuinely afraid for your safety and wellbeing. Now - are you saying you want to go to New York earlier?”_

_You grip my hand and nod vehemently. Is it waking up on the plane that you’re afraid of?_

_“I can change the travel arrangements - but that would mean we’d get into New York late and we’d need to stay in a hotel. Would you prefer that to waking on the plane?”_

_Again, you nod vehemently._

_“Well, then - your wish is my command, darling. I’ll just make the call, and we’ll swing by the apartment on the way to the airport. We can pick up some food on the way.” I hesitate and take your hand. “I’m - sorry if I’ve acted in a way that was condescending. I’m condescending with everyone as it is, so it’s not exactly easy to stop what comes naturally to me. But you are not one of the plebes - you are my second in command and my beloved boyfriend-partner-whatever, and you deserve fucking respect. Wait - boyfriend-partner-whatever - that doesn’t have the right rhythm. Am I missing a word?” I grin._

 

 

I can’t help it - I snigger at the mention of less impulse control and getting violent. I thought that was what we were all about.

But how am I supposed to know if I’m more or less violent and emotional than before?

I’m immensely glad you agree to us going to New York immediately - I _would_ get violent if I had to hang around for much longer. As patient as I was yesterday, so restless am I now. I want this _over_... I want to see the look of relief on your face when you get your old Tiger back.

You’re apologizing for being condescending and I can tell that this is something new for you - you look uncomfortable and incredibly cute.

“Lover,” I manage.

Lover was the word you missed...

“Am other than normal? More violets, more emotion?”

 

 

_"Have you been acting normally? You've been the same, darling - maybe less mouthy and sarcastic, but there's a lot going on for you. It's just in the last little while you've been getting impatient and restless. But I don't know if that's a side effect of the drug, or a very reasonable response to what you're going through. I'm sure I'd handle it a thousand times worse than you!" I kiss you on the lips. "Don't give up, Tiger... We're hopefully in the final stretch."_

_I take out my phone and make a couple of calls- one to arrange an earlier flight, and one to Joey Russo. He's delighted to hear from me, and demands that I visit him while I'm in town. I tell him it depends how well our plans go, and he offers to decapitate anyone I want. I laugh - it helps to have psychopathic allies in high places. The call about the flight goes less well, and I have to do some impressive bribing and threatening to make it happen - but Sebastian will have whatever he needs. And if my darling wants to be in New York tonight, then that's where we'll be when the sun sets..._

_The car pulls up to an intersection near our secret apartment, and we disappear into a back alley to make our way there._

 

 

Well, I would assume anyone would get impatient and restless if they had to deal with this kind of frustration. So unless I’m normally a sweet little puppy with the patience of a saint, I’d say I’m not suffering from _those_ side effects... yet.

But what if I wake up next time and get all violent? I’m _lethal_ \- what if I get violent towards _you?!_

I’ll have to take that sedative - but how do I get it to work when I wake up? I wish I wouldn’t have to wake up... I’m fucking scared of what happens when I wake up... I just don’t know from one day to the next what fresh hell will await me upon waking.

Please, god, let this detox thing work well and quickly...

We get to the apartment, throw some stuff in bags, get in the car to the airport.

“Jim... sedative. How is minister? Can use it if I become violin?”

 

 

_"The sedative is in pill form. Yes, I can give it to you if you start getting violent but it would take a little while to kick in... the good doctor must have been all out of tranquillizer darts, unfortunately... We should stop on the way to the airport and get the prescription filled, just in case..."_

_I give instructions to the driver, and we make a detour. For the rest of the ride to the airport you sit quietly, resting your head against my shoulder. I hold your hand and play with your fingers._

_The car pulls up to the curb, and you raise your head to look at me._

_"You're ready for this, Tiger?" I ask softly._

_You nod. We get out of the car with our luggage, and head on a roundabout way around security with our secret stash of weapons._

 

 

I’m not happy with the thought of me possibly getting violent and having to take a pill to calm down - like I’m going to quietly take a pill if I’m aggressive. All I can think of is staying awake until I’ve got the detox, or taking a pill every few hours, but then either staying up or waking up every few hours and taking sedatives could have weird effects...

We’re on the plane, it’s taking off, I don’t know what to do to keep you safest, except keeping you away from me, which I know you won’t do and I really don’t want, and I can’t simply chat with you without sounding like a simpleton, and I just start crying. I try to stop, but now the gates are open I can’t stop.

 

 

_It’s a bit awkward to lean over the seat and hold you - I want no space between us. So I just sit in your lap and wrap my arms around you. My head leans against your shoulder, my face presses into your neck._

_“You cry if you need to, Sebastian. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I promise you, I will fix this. And then we’ll have such a lovely time terrifying the people who did this. You’ll enjoy that, darling - you can do whatever you like to them. That’ll be fun, won’t it?” You nod through your tears._

_Fuck. I miss your mouthiness..._

_I miss you telling me your opinion when you’re feeling authoritative, all the things that used to equally amuse me and irritate me..._

_I just miss you, Tiger..._

_I manage to keep myself from crying, because I don’t think that will help you._

_I find a sassy crime film for us to watch, and I stay on your lap the whole time. I do hear you chuckle a few times, which makes me want to cry all over again. Towards the end I look over and see you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t take me too long to follow._

 

 

You're so sweet and the tears just keep coming, but it seems to quiet me down a bit, and when we're watching the film I relax a bit more... I don't want to fall asleep, I mustn't, I don't want to wake up on the plane, what if I'm worse... I can't... but my eyelids are heavy... I'll just close my eyes for a little bit... it's been an intense day...

I wake up - I'm restrained. Why am I restrained!? What the fuck?! Was I captured? Jim?! Where is Jim??

I roar, pull -

But then you're there, placing your hands on me, telling me to calm down, Tiger, it's fine, we're on the plane, it's just the safety belt, you'll take it off if I let you - you look at me so concerned, so full of love - Jim...

I burst into tears; you caress me, say it's ok, it's fine, it will all be alright...

Fucking hell, I'm a liability, aren't I...

You're so sweet, look so desperate... Jim...

"You sweet... I love Jim..."

My speech hasn't improved then... but at least I'm not violent towards you, and I remember who you are... I'll be so glad when I don't have to panic about every nap I take...

"How long have been a sheep?"

 

"Two hours, Tiger... we're over halfway there. You should eat something, sweetheart. I've asked the attendant to make us some food and keep it warm until you woke up... I'll call her now."

You press a button and the attendant walks out with two trays with food that does smell lovely - I realize how hungry I am, tuck into the eggs and salmon as she brings fresh toast and butter and coffee.

 

"Thank you," I manage. I'm glad I get at least to be polite.

 

 

_I'm relieved to see you eat heartily. It makes me feel like all is right in that corner of the world, where physically at least, Tiger is like a tank, and has a voracious appetite._

 

_"So, you remember where we're going and why?" I ask, drinking my coffee._

_You nod at me._

_"If there's anything you're not clear about, you can ask. I know you're not very comfortable with talking, but I just want you to know I'm fine with it and I understand what you're saying... so you speak as much or as little as you want, darling."_

_You nod again, looking relieved and sad. Again, I have to stop myself from crying. Jesus._

_We finish our food, and I select another film. I find myself hoping we don't fall asleep again. I'm relieved you still have your short-term memory, at least - I don't want to risk losing that._

_A couple of films later, we're still awake and landing in New York. A car arrives to whisk us away to our swanky hotel, and we follow our valet and luggage into our suite. Once he's ushered out, I turn to you._

_"What would you like to do, Tiger? Our appointment with Willie is tomorrow. Do you want me to call him to meet now instead? I'll have to make something up about a last-minute change of plans, and hope he doesn't get suspicious..."_

 

 

Oh god I would love that. I so want that. Oh Jim please -

No, we can't - it would look suspicious - we mustn't - it might be dangerous -

Oh fuck Jim...

"Invite him business dinner?"

 

 

_"Clever... such a clever Tiger..." I grin. I take out my phone, and make the call._

_"Hallo, William! It's Adam Black calling. One of our meetings was moved up to tomorrow morning, so we flew in early. Our evening is free, and I'm wondering if you might like to meet for dinner. I'd like to learn more about what drugs you're developing - we have money to invest, and these types of drugs will certainly come in handy in our line of work."_

_Willie pauses for one moment before enthusiastically accepting the invitation. I give him an address, remind him to bring the sample, and hang up._

_"We're meeting in an hour and a half. Would you like to take a shower, darling?" I look at you innocently. I can think of one thing that always puts a spring in Tiger's step._

 

 

Oh god thank you Jim - I wrap you in a big hug. "Thank you... Love you... But how I gone meet - meet him? He hear thing's fault with me. May get suspenders. Suspicious. Know I got drug."

 

 

_"Well... we could come clean that you've received the drug, but I don't think is a good idea. It would be too easy to figure out who we are, if Willie tells Uncle Francis any of this. Or I can ask Joey Russo to send some security for me. You would have to stay behind - if anyone said anything to you, it would be too obvious something was wrong. Are you OK with that?"_

 

 

"Cart I be French? Contact - customer. Want to see him, but no no England." We don't know if William might speak French, though... and it's obvious something is wrong with my speech even if you don't know what language I'm speaking. Damn it...

"I go sit a difficult table. I don't... desire leave after. Behind."

 

 

_"You don't want to be left behind. All right. I don't think it will work to sit at a different table... how will you order? Just be French. He's American, so the odds are good he won't know it. If you *have* to say anything, just keep it brief. I'll say you're a silent partner - hah. All right?"_

 

 

Alright - I can be some bored posh dude who really would want to be anywhere else but at this boring dinner, but has to come because he doesn't trust anyone else. I have brought a good suit - wait - do I even remember my French?

"Je dois essayer de parler français..." wait - did that actually come out alright?

I look at you, perplexed. It sounded good to me, but was it intelligible?

 

 

_I stare at you. “Why... are you able to speak French more clearly than English? Ça ne fait rien! Parlez français!” I kiss you with excitement. “You could even kiss me in French, si vous désirez...”_

 

 

What the flying fuck is going on _here?!_ Have I become French?

Whatever, take the small victories as they come.

“J’ai aucune idée... mais c’est plus facile que parler anglais. Je suis fou...”

It all flows fluently - what on Earth...

Oh well - if all else fails, I can always become a French speaker. It’s an immense relief that _something_ is coming out properly...

 

 

_"Je suis si heureux pour vous, mon tigre bien-aimé!" I hug you hard, relief flooding through me. I look at you, and see some of the tension in your face has disappeared. Thank fuck._

_Now... to work on the rest._

_"I'm going to take a shower before dinner... why don't you join me, mon amour?" Slowly I walk backwards towards the bathroom, pulling you with me._

 

 

I wasn't in a sexy mood - really wasn't; I was too tense, too frustrated, but the weird French has cheered me up somewhat, and I let myself be dragged to the shower by the sexiest man on earth. The more men I see, the more convinced I am that's true.

You start up the shower, I can complain "Pas si chaud!" without worrying - wow, French is the best thing ever. I don't even remember learning it, but it comes out and it sounds good and I understand what I'm saying and you understand what I'm saying - all things I took for granted until this morning. I don't think I'll ever take any mental faculty for granted any more... if I get everything back after this detox I'll still wake up terrified for many mornings to come, I'm sure.

We stand under the shower, kissing, stroking. I take some shower gel from the shelf, pour it into my hand, and start rubbing you with it, my hands sliding over the oily liquid on your smooth skin.

 

 

_So... Sebastian Moran is not making a move on me in the shower. I’m trying not to take this as a sign - like, the end of the fucking world is imminent. Or one of us is going to - NO. We don’t do this. Not before going into battle. My eyes narrow as I consider options._

_Right - change tactics. Fuck subtlety._

_I knock the shower gel from your hand... push you against the wall, move my tongue sinuously over your neck... lower myself to my knees... look up, water streaming over me..._

_I shoot you a ‘That’s right - you’re seeing clearly. Now do as you’re told...’ look, and I take your cock in my mouth. Hopefully the translation is not lost on you. My hands grasp your arse and fondle your cheeks as I suck you. Mmm. Tiger. This isn’t something I would normally do, but I’m still going to enjoy the fuck out of it._

 

 

What the.. -

Jim!?

On your _knees_? In front of me?

I am pretty sure you don't usually do this. The look in your eyes says very much the same. I almost chuckle at your expression, pretty much spelling out how incredibly magnanimous you're being, better enjoy this, you're not going to make a habit out of it...

Well, I will enjoy it. Looking down on you, your mouth around my cock, water streaming over your face with your closed eyes, through your hair, your hands holding me... you look so incredibly sexy there... I know I love being on my knees for you, but you kneeling for me, on the hard shower floor, your mouth doing absolutely magic things with such skill and devotion - I can't deny that is incredibly sexy. And it makes me feel ten miles high, to see Jim Moriarty, god among men, on his knees for _me_. To suck my cock.

"Jim..."

 

 

_Mmm... you really do have a beautiful cock, Tiger... it's such a pleasure to suck it, to dig my nails into your arse, to make you moan..._

_You must know I would do this for no one else... all those times I ignored your needs after you blew me, I was denying myself what I wanted out of some ridiculous sense of staying on top, leaving you hungry for me... What a fool I was. I feel my own erection against my abdomen, and I start stroking myself as I suck you._

_There's a deep, purring sound coming from my throat and you're groaning loudly, your back and head pressed against the wall. God - this is getting hot, I don't think it will last long... I look up at you and we lock eyes. You're staring at me feverishly as I blow you and stroke my cock harder and faster. *Fuck*... this won't last long at all..._

 

 

Oh god. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod...

Your mouth. Your mouth oh god your _tongue_...

I squirm, my knees tremble - and then you start _purring_ -

I don't know how you do that but it reverberates all the way through every nerve in my cock and balls and it's _excruciatingly exquisite_...

I manage to open my eyes, look down at you, and you're stroking yourself, stroking that magnificent cock, oh god Jim, this is too much, I feel my balls constricting, getting ready, and then the _surge_ into you - pouring my pleasure into your eager mouth - oh god, Jim-

Too late I worry if we should be doing this - if it's not dangerous - what if I faint again -

But the feeling is too overwhelming, and all I can do is ride it, clenching the taps to hold myself upright...

 

"Jim...

 

 

_I feel the shuddering in your body before you explode into my mouth, and I drink you down with satisfaction. You're shaking as you hold yourself upright, moaning as I continue to lick you and suck you. Then the ecstatic wave of my own orgasm rises up in me, and I'm shivering and groaning as I'm coming hard, spilling over my fingers onto the bathtub floor. Only then do I stop sucking you - I look up from my knees, see you breathing hard and leaning against the wall. I grin, rising up in a fluid motion. I lean against your chest, sigh as your arms slide around me. The water pours down on us, and slowly our breath returns to normal._

 

_"Tu es si délicieux, mon tigre..." I murmur into your chest._

 

 

Fucking hell...

... wow.

... god Jim...

I do see some spots dance in front of my eyes, but overall I think I’m surviving...

 

“Tu pourrait parler anglais... Je n’ai pas des problèmes avec compréhension...” I say without any problems whatsoever. Honestly, the human brain is the weirdest thing ever.

 

But I’m in New York and in an hour or so we’re going to meet the guy who’s going to fix my brain...

I dare not think about the possibility that it won’t work. It _has_ to work. And if it doesn’t, you’re going to make him make something that _does_. I’m going to be fixed... I have to be... please...

I’m sure I’m not someone who usually focuses on the risky side of life, with my life, my lover, my background... so stop it, Sebastian. It’s going to be _fine_.

 

 

_"Je sais, mon cher - mais c'est plus amusant de converser dans la même langue, non? Maintenant... ferme-la et embrasse-moi - en français s'il vous plaît..." I tilt my face up to yours, and give you a kiss that is very french indeed..._

 

_I know you're feeling stressed out of your mind, Tiger... but I'll do my very best to keep you calm and *we will get through this*..._

_Also - this is a very fine kiss, pressed up naked against you in the shower... I'm very much looking forward to more of this kissing... I imagine what it will be like to kiss my Tiger with his full memory back, for the very first time... and the next time, and the next... Could it happen as soon as tonight?? I'm guessing it will take a bit more time, but my heart quickens at the thought..._

 

 

“T’es magnifique... mon chef... mon chaton... aïe! Ne me frappe pas! Je suis un malade faible!” I grin.

“Je suis encore angoissé, mais moins que avant. Je suis heureux que je peux parler... même si je dois parler français.”

 

You’re tense as well. You do your best to seem confident for my sake, but you miss the man you used to know, who is and is not me...

I wish we could go see this guy, take his pills, and rush off here again, but it’s dangerous enough... if his uncle gets any whiff of us, we’re dead.

 

“En effet, c’est bien que nous rencontrons William ce soir. Nous ne voulons pas lui donner le temps pour parler avec son oncle...”

 

 

_I look up at you, the water pouring down on you - you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I wasn’t able to keep you safe... and I wasn’t able to fix this for you, with all the resources I had at my disposal - not money, not contacts, not my considerable reputation and the terror that accompanies it... but now there are people snapping at my heels, trying to take the Empire away, and *fucking with my Tiger*... how did this happen? How did I *allow* this to happen? (Was I distracted by feelings for you before this happened?)_

_I’m in danger of being swamped with emotion, and this is a very bad thing... it’s going to get us both *killed*. I slam down the metal door on the bunker that has been wedged open of late._

 

_“Oui, c’est bien...” I say, distracted. “Avec de la chance, nous allons obtenir les pilules facilement... et tout cela sera bien tot fini...”_

_I turn off the water, and step out of the bathtub. I grab two fluffy white towels and we dry ourselves off in silence._

_After I dress, I do a little work on my new laptop and before too long, it’s time to go. The car we’ve arranged for is picking us up in front of the hotel, and we’re being whisked off to the restaurant. The whole city feels like a potential threat, like Francis Pott is going to jump from behind every corner. I glower through the tinted windows at the people we pass. I feel like I’ve been trying to outrun Francis Fucking Pott for the last two days... *I’m* the one who makes people run and hide... was I wrong to let myself feel for someone? Is that why everything is such a mess??_

 

 

You seem distracted after our shower. I’m not too fussed - I’m too tense to talk. I can’t wait to get my hands on those bloody pills but I’m also only too aware of the risk that this might all be a trap; and there’s a deep fear inside me that the pills might not work.

What will I do if they don’t? And what if this is a trap and the guy is going to give us pills that will outright kill me? All I can hope is that you with your sharp eyes and even sharper mind will dissect this guy. I trust you...

My stomach is a ball of nerves when we get to the restaurant. Not exciting nerves, but unpleasant squirms that are making me queasy.

We walk into the restaurant, your usual swanky kind of place. There’s no mistaking William Pott - an unkempt thirty-something in an ill-fitting suit is sitting at a table looking around nervously.

Over to you, my demon lover...

 

 

_I walk straight up to Willie. "Excuse me," I say in my British accent. "Are you William Pott?"_

 

_"Yes! Mr Black?" He gets up, bumping his plate loudly against his glass and pumps my hand up and down with excitement._

 

_Down, Willie..._

_"Please - call me Adam. And this is my business partner Ansel Chevalier. His spoken English is a bit spotty, so he'll mostly just be listening..."_

 

_He shakes your hand, and you look like you want to punch him across the room. Oh god, let's just get through this without incident…_

_"Great to meet you both. Please - have a seat!"_

_He seems pleased as punch to have set up this meeting - good for you, Willie. Now give us what we came for..._

 

_"We can't wait to hear all about your current drugs and the ones in development… this is very exciting work that you're doing! But before we get too carried away and forget, do you have the sample of the detox drug?"_

 

_He looks blank for a moment, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to hold you back from lunging across the table. "Oh, of course... here you go." He hands me a package tied with brown paper. "Instructions are inside..."_

 

_"Wonderful, thank you. Ansel, can you hold onto this for me?" I hand it to you and smile._

 

 

"Merci, Monsieur Black... Monsieur Pott." I nod at the quacksalver, force myself to only glance at the sample before I slide it into my briefcase. I can't run to the loo and take it, we need to read the instructions; god knows what effect it may have...

"Demande-lui tout ce que tu peut en cela... sans éveiller des soupçons, évidemment..." I say calmly. You will look straight through me, but I _am_ good at playing roles and I'm sure William won't see how desperate I am, how my stomach is churning inside me, how tempted I am to grab him by the cheap lapels, drag him over the table and into a car, and lock him in a basement until both you and I are satisfied that I am myself again.

"Est-ce qu'il y a une limitation du temps après le médicament premier dans laquelle on doit le prener? Est-ce qu'il y a des effets secondaires? Pourrait-il n'avoir pas de l'effet? Ou un effet partiel?"

 

 

_William's eyebrows go up. I laugh in a dismissive manner. "You'll have to excuse Ansel, he's all business... Before we get to the discussion of other drugs, we have a few questions about this one - if that's all right?" I sound bored, like this is a drag to get through. Perfect._

 

_William nods. "Of course! I wouldn't expect anything less. Ask away..."_

 

_"Is there a time limit in terms of taking this after Lethe?" I ask, my voice decreasing in volume._

 

_"Ah. Well as we've discussed, there's not a lot of exact data gathered yet. But of course, the sooner you take it, the better the effects are. I'd say within three to five days gives the best results. I wouldn't recommend going for longer than a week."_

 

_I nod, not showing my relief. This is Day Four... thank Christ you insisted we fly today._

 

_"Any secondary effects we should be aware of?"_

 

_Willie shrugs. "Like any medication, there's a list - it's in the included information. Nothing as potent as Lethe. Stuff like nausea, headaches, muscle weakness...that kind of thing...I wouldn't recommend you fly a plane after!" He chortles at his little joke, and I laugh with him. You stare at him stonily._

 

_"And is it possible there could a partial effect or none at all?" I say with a smile._

 

_Willie looks uncomfortable. " A slight chance, sure. But we've had good results with this... the odds are you'll see a full reversal, or at least most of one - maybe you'll be missing the memory of a summer or the name of your first dog, that kind of thing. And like with regular amnesia, it could come back down the road..."_

 

_"Satisfied, Ansel?" I ask, making sure to sound irritated. "Or do you still have questions?"_

 

 

Oh god this sounds good... but it also sounds like time is important. I'm _so_ tempted to go to the loo and take it _now_ , but taking my briefcase to the loo will arouse suspicion... or maybe he'll just think I'm paranoid... I'm tempted... but no, I can't risk it.

 

"Oui... ça suffira..."

 

The waiter comes to take our order. I _have_ to be patient, it would not do to cut a business dinner short... we don't want to do _anything_ that will arouse William's uncle's suspicions. I order a steak with chips and mineral water, in case you're not supposed to take the detox after alcohol. You also order a steak and red wine, William decides on the hake and white. Thank fuck he doesn't feel he can order a starter if neither of us do. And I'm sure we can claim jet lag to get out of a dessert...

 

 

_Hmm... I know you're dying to take it right now. How can I distract Willie so you can get it from your briefcase and excuse yourself for a few?_

_As the waiter distributes our drinks, I nudge your calf with my foot. You look at me, and I glance at the briefcase, then reach for my glass. I knock it forward into Willie's glass which goes flying across the table and over the edge. Red and white wine go splashing everywhere, Willie yelps and reaches for the glass on the floor, just as the waiter is bending down and they bump heads. Jesus - he's a walking calamity. He must be an idiot savant when it comes to developing drugs._

 

_"Oh no, I'm so terribly sorry, it must be this awful jet lag, I'm so sorry!" I flit about like a flustered, embarrassed Brit, picking up my glass and shielding you from view - I see the package being slipped surreptitiously into your jacket's inside pocket, and I return to my seat, covering my face with my hand. I'm sure Willie thinks I'm appalled but really, I'm trying not to smile._

_You make a comment about visiting the loo, sounding like a disdainful, ornery Frenchman, and you slip away._

_The waiter rushes off to bring new glasses, and I'm left apologizing profusely to a very flustered Willie, while laughing on the inside._

 

 

I dive into a cubicle and tear the paper off. A little blister of pills wrapped in sheaves of paper. My heart sinks when I see all the chemical formulas and long incomprehensible words - come on, there must be a dummies’ guide in here; I’m not a medic...

Folded paper falls to the floor as I search -

USE. Thank fuck. That looks like normal-ish English.

For best results, recommendations... take after food - I’ll have to surreptitiously take one. You can distract our William. No other drugs or alcohol. I pat myself on the back for my foresight. Do not drive after... observed side effects include temporary memory loss, headache, disorientation, mood swings, eyesight problems...

EFFICACY.

That’s the dreaded one...

Bla bla bla... Insufficient data to make accurate predictions, bla...

There. Concrete numbers.

80 to 95% depending on how strict the conditions are. 80% full recovery of all memory and mental facilities. 15% partial memory recovery, or some temporary or potentially permanent brain damage.

_Some potentially permanent brain damage?!_

Speech affected... oh god, no...

Oversensitivity to the amnesiac effects of alcohol... doesn’t sound great either...

Sudden mood swings...

And then 5% who have some small or no improvement.

Well. The odds are on my side. Just - please...

I fold the papers back up, slip them and the pills in my inside pocket, with one precious pill in my right outside pocket, ready to be taken straight after the food... which I don’t want any more, but if it’s needed for the pill I will force it down.

I make my way back to the table where William is enthusiastically holding forth.

 

 

_We get through our meal with Willie babbling about the chemistry behind the drugs he's developing, and only knocking over his water glass twice. When he fumbles with the bread basket and rolls go flying over the edge of the table, I pretend to stab myself in the thigh with my fork, making you smile faintly. Actually, some of the drugs do seem interesting, and Willie doesn't seem to have a calculating bone in his body... I ponder the possibility of what to do with him once his uncle is dead and buried - perhaps he'll be allowed to live, so as to develop drugs for the Empire? Wheels are turning in my head as you excuse yourself to go the loo again. The pill must have needed to be taken with food - poor Tiger having to wait so long..._

 

_"How long does it take for the drug kick in?" I ask, distracted._

 

_Willie stops his cheerful monologue. "The drug for mimicking the effects of a heart attack? Or for slowing down a heart attack?"_

 

_"No, sorry - the detox drug to counteract Lethe. I forgot to ask..."_

 

_"Oh, that info is included... people start feeling the effects about 30 minutes in. Probably the majority of a person's memory would come back over 48 hours, but it could take as long as a week for some memories to fill in..."_

 

_"So sorry, I should have just looked at the information. What were you saying about the heart attack drug?" I glance at the hallway, looking for you to appear._

 

_"Well, it doesn't actually cause a heart attack, it just makes you think you're having one... and doctors will think so too until they run enough tests. Then they would still keep you for observation. It's a neat little trick to get someone out of the way for at least a couple of days, wouldn't you say?" He seems awfully pleased with himself and raises his wine glass to his lips before spilling white wine on his shirt._

 

_You're an odd little goose, Willie Pott. But your mind works in curious ways... I think we might try to keep you._

_"Neat little trick," I agree, smiling._

 

_His eyes widen as he looks towards the front door, and he starts furiously brushing at his shirt with his cloth napkin. "Oh, wow. He's here..."_

 

_"Who's here?" I ask curiously._

 

_"My uncle. I don't know what he's doing here..." He waves, and slowly my head turns to face Francis Pott striding towards us._

_He glances at me with a cold, assessing look before directing a smile towards his nephew. From the corner of my eye, I see movement and turn to see you coming down the hallway, watching like a predatory cat as the man approaches our table._

 

_"William, is this a - business meeting?" he asks in a friendly tone. "Why don't you introduce me to your acquaintance?"_

 

 


	17. I've Just Begun Having My Fun

Fuck!!!

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, and an extra dose of fuck!

That guy that's walking purposefully to our table - the family resemblance is unmistakable - that must be William's uncle Francis. Unless one of his other uncles just happened to visit.

He's looking at you - does he know who you are!?

I do a quick sweep of the room - there - those two guys in suits are not having a business meeting. A surreptitious glance at your table - quickly looking away - they're his guys. Shit. When did they come in? Were they in here when we got in? I can't remember - too distracted by these fucking pills. Both armed - semi-automatics - shit.

I have my gun, you have yours... but I just took a _pill_ that might have _any number_ of debilitating effects. God knows what will happen - eyesight problems? Mood swings? _Fuck_ , I should have waited until we were back at the hotel...

 

Or -

maybe this has all been a setup.

Maybe our William is not so clumsy after all.

Maybe the pill I just swallowed is a poison that will kill me stone dead in a few minutes.

Maybe all the throwing stuff over and apologizing was an attempt to drop something in _your_ glass. I'm pretty sure one of us would have noticed if he did, but it's not like we're both in top form at the moment.

 

I walk to our table with stiff legs. If Francis knows who you are, he knows who I am, and he knows I've been drugged. If William was not in cahoots with his uncle all along, how long will it take Uncle Francis to work out he's given me the detox? What will he do then? Can we take them out? William is unarmed. Uncle Francis - a small gun under his arm. Those two guys - I could take them out while you get Francis. But what if there are others? Or guys waiting outside?

We'll have to wait, see how it plays out...

While I sit and see if I get disoriented or blind.

Or dead.

 

 

_I feel frozen as I look from you approaching like a silent killer, and back to Francis - shit. *ShitShitShit*. Does he know??_

_I need to be *not* frozen right now, please... come *the fuck on*, Moriarty..._

_On the off chance that Francis hasn't a fucking clue who I am and is just annoyed with his nephew for meeting with a client without him, I paste a blank expression on my face. It seems unlikely, but I'm just trying to optimize our chances for getting out of here alive. Tiger... follow my lead._

_"_ _Oh - this is Adam Black and his business partner from France - Antoine Chevalier? They're interested in the drugs we're developing, and they want to place a large order for the detox drug," Willie says proudly._

 

_*Fuck*... you jabbering *idiot*, way to give the game away. And it was Ansel, not Antoine... make sure to put the correct aliases on our fucking tombstones, Willie._

 

_Francis turns his gaze to me, and his steely blue eyes stare me down. "Is that right? And you're interested in the detox drug to counteract what?"_

 

_"Lethe," Willie says helpfully._

 

_Francis smiles at me like a shark._

 

 

Oh, fucking hell... If he didn't know who we were before he's worked it out now. I introduce myself as 'Ansel Chevalier, enchanté...' though I'm not _enchanted_ in the slightest.

Now what? If I take out the two guys at the table, who I _think_ are the only ones, and you take out Francis, could we escape through the back? There must be a back entrance, but would Pott have people there?

Oh god Jim... please be a genius for me...

 

 

_Francis leans back in his chair, stretching his long legs. He has ginger hair and a trim beard, and his face assumes a blank expression. But there’s no mistaking the amusement in his eyes._

 

_“So, you’re from England and France...” he says, in his curious New York accent with Irish undertones. “And you came all the way here to pick up a sample in person?”_

 

_“Oh, hardly,” I laugh. “We were going to be in town on business anyway. Thought we’d make a new connection since we were curious about your drugs in development...”_

 

_“And you called the head of the lab directly? Curious... these things are normally set up through Sales...” he waves his hand. “Not important. You’re here now. You got what you came for, then?” he smiles._

 

_“Sample. Rundown on drugs in development. A personal connection with this promising young chemist.” I check off the items on my fingers. “Now all we need is to take in a Broadway show, and our evening will be complete.”_

 

_“Oh, a show...” Francis straightens in his chair. “Don’t you have some wonderful shows in London? I was just having a conversation the other day with someone who was extolling the virtues of London... encouraged me to be a tourist,” He laughs and there’s something decidedly off about his laughter. Shit - in person he’s not the run-of-the-mill blustery criminal type. But then... neither am I._

 

_I grin at Francis. “Oh. If you ever find yourself in London, please do give me a call. I’d be happy to show you the sights. After all, I’m going to be doing a lot of business with your company... It’s the least I could do.”_

_I wave at the waiter, and he rushes over, scanning the table for spilled drinks. “A bottle of your best champagne - we have much to celebrate.”_

_The waiter rushes off. Francis watches me closely, and then bursts out laughing._

 

_“Something funny?” I ask, smiling._

 

_“I’ve heard things about you... I’m glad I got to see you in action...”_

 

_“You’ve heard things?” I ask innocently, and sip my water. “I just contacted your nephew this afternoon...”_

 

_He shakes his head. “Listen - I’m all for cementing our relationship. I’d like to invite you back to the labs, give you a tour of the operation. It’s the least *I* could do...”_

 

_“Sounds wonderful - I’d love a rain check. Tonight, we’re both suffering from jet lag, so I don’t think I’d fully appreciate it.” Waiters arrive with a bottle and a tray of champagne flutes._

 

_“Oh, I thought you wanted to take in a show...” Francis says with malice._

 

_I turn to you. “Are you interested in a show, Ansel?”_

 

_I grab the champagne bottle, and smash it against Francis’ side of the table. As he’s showered with shards of glass and shooting foam, he goes flying from his seat. I seize the champagne glass tray and hurl it in the direction of his men. One is hit in the face, the other grabs his gun from his jacket then hesitates as everyone in the restaurant turns in shock to see what’s happening._

_Pandemonium, my pretties... that’s what’s happening._

_I grab my gun and go flying at Francis who’s on the floor roaring at his men to not let us get away. The one who didn’t get hit by glasses lunges at me and knocks me to the side. I look up at you as I fall to the floor and feel a gun against my side. Your move, Ansel..._

 

 

You're looking at me - something's going to go down -

You smash the bottle, I reach for my gun -

\- or I think I do -

... my hand isn't moving.

What the fuck!?! Why is my hand not moving?! I need my gun!

Oh fucking hell not _now!!_

You're throwing the tray at the guys at the other table, which fortunately distracts them for a moment, but the other one reaches for his gun - I _must_...

... protect...

... JIM...

My left hand works - I use it to pull at my right but it's not responding. Am I having a fucking stroke?

Never mind - left hand works - and the guy is jumping Jim - I must act _fast_ -

I pull my gun with my left hand and shoot the one whose attention is on you through the head, then turn to the other one and shoot him - in the chest, not sure if he's dead, but at least he's incapacitated.

 

 

_What's going on? Why aren't you moving??_

_It's the drug, isn't it..._

_*Fuck*..._

_Shots are being fired, people are screaming and stampeding for the door. You can't see me past the people running in between us, and there's an explosion of pain at my jaw and my gun gets kicked from my hand. I find myself pulled up from the floor. Just as I'm about to throw my head back against my assailant's nose, I feel a jab of metal at my throat. I freeze, and then time slows down - what?_

 

_I hear Francis laughing. "I wouldn't shoot," he says lazily. "I've two more men, did you not notice?"_

_Two waiters flank us, pulling guns from their waistbands._

 

_"Oh well *played*, Francis..." I say slowly. My tongue doesn't seem to be working properly._

 

_"*Thank* you, James. As for you, Mr Moran... I wouldn't suggest making another move. You might shoot me, but you better believe I'm taking your adoring boss with me - and all it would take is to push the rest of *this* lovely drug into him before I expire... Got it?"_

_I look at you and you appear furious and panicky._

_"Now, Sebastian... your Jimmy and I are going to have a little talk. We'll drop him off at your hotel later, don't you fret. But if you want him to receive the antidote to what I gave him... Put. Down. Your. Gun." Francis purrs. "*Now*."_

 

 

FUCK...

Pott has a syringe rammed into your throat, his hand on the plunger. Two guys are aiming their guns at me. Your gun is on the floor.

I could shoot Pott before he could plunge the rest of the drug into you, but the guys would shoot me and you wouldn't have time to get your gun. Also, you're sounding doped - your reactions would be too slow.

There's no way to win this.

I put my gun on the floor, scowling. I have another one, but I can't get to it, not when everybody is watching me. But there's _no way_ I'll let them take you away on your own - how can I convince them to take me?! I can't think of anything - but don't leave me, Jim -

FUCK...

"Jim... si je ne te verrai plus... je veux que tu sais que je ne regrette que je ne pouvais pas te sauver. T'es mon grand amour, et je voudrais qu'on aurait un peu plus de temps...

Essaye de ne pas mourir, s'il te plaît...

Je t'attendrai..."

 

 

_Tiger, are you *giving up*???_

_Tiger, NO…_

_These are the thoughts that come screaming through my mind even though I know there's nothing else to do and this is the safest plan of action to survive to the next moment and have half a chance to get out of New York alive..._

_I still can't think beyond *Tiger, NO*…_

_I manage to keep tears from gushing from my eyes because I will not give fucking Pott the satisfaction of seeing me cry. He'd probably laugh his arse off and this is exactly why I was worried about letting anyone in, letting myself feel, Tiger, don't you see??_

_Moriarty would *never* let himself be in this position!!_

_Jim on the other hand fucked up..._

_Oh god... *I fucked up*…_

_And I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that._

_I don't trust that I won't start sobbing if I speak... so I can't even respond to your words, which feel like... goodbye??_

_Oh *fuck you*, Sebastian... how dare you give up on us, how *dare* you make me love you and then leave me to feel so vulnerable and alone??_

_The surge of pain and anger that cuts through me makes me gasp._

_Oh god Tiger, I didn't mean it... I'm so sorry..._

_*I'm the one who failed you*..._

_I stare at you with wide, horrified eyes as I'm dragged off towards a hallway, while screaming people flee the building._

 

 

They're dragging you away.

 

They're dragging you away and there's nothing I can do.

One of the waiters is walking along with Pott, the other is walking slowly backwards keeping his gun aimed at me.

 

They're dragging you away from me.

 

I failed.

 

The one job I have in life -

protect you -

I failed.

 

Star assassin, sniper, bodyguard. Allegedly. One simple job. Keep. Jim. Safe.

 

I failed.

I failed you.

 

I'm a sorry excuse for a bodyguard. If only my right hand had worked...

No. I hadn't spotted the waiters. Too preoccupied with my fucking pill. This was my idea. We could have waited until tomorrow...

Still, if Francis Pott knew about tonight, he'd have known about tomorrow.

 

 _I need to do something_...

 

I can't track your phone - we got rid of those.

I can't access your network - you never showed me and I didn't ask.

 

Pott drags you out of the door ( _no... Jim... JIM!!! come back!!!..._ ) and the waiters follow.

( _JIM_... _I love you... don't go... please... Jim... you are... everything..._ )

 

I can't fall to my knees and curl up into a bawling ball, so I grab my gun and point it at William, who is crying on the floor. "Where are they taking him?" I shout. Huh. My right arm doesn't work but at least my English has returned.

He just cries louder. I can't grab him _and_ hold my gun so I prod him - well, kick him - with my foot. "William! Talk to me!" He looks up scared and crying even louder. "You... speak English?"

When in a crisis, people often focus on the weirdest things. But I don't have time for a chat about language skills William - "WHERE is your uncle taking Adam?!"

"I don't know! I didn't even know he was coming! Why did you shoot all those people... Who are you..." he starts sobbing louder. He's obviously not quite cottoned on to the criminal aspect of his uncle's work.

I run over to the guy I shot in the chest - he may still be alive - he may know something -

He's not. I am a good shot.

Fuck.

 

The only chance I have at a slight edge is taking William and hope his uncle is awfully fond of him - though the fact that he left him behind with an angry assassin doesn't bode well...

 

 _JIM_ \- _pain_ -

 

Not _now_ , Sebastian. Get William and get out of here. You can cry later.

 

I put my gun under William's throat, growl at him to get up. He does. We walk to the kitchen, where the terrified staff let us through. We come out in a dinghy alley with bins. "Do you have a car?" I ask William. Crying, he nods.

"Right. Let's go there."

I wrap my arm around him like a lover, my hand under his jacket, the gun poking into his chest.

 

 _Jim_... Jim, where are you!?

 

 

_As I'm being dragged away from you, I hear a police siren in the distance._

_Francis has handed me off to his men, and he's following behind us, laughing._

 

_"Threaten me, and then show up from England the very next day," he snickers. "You are a piece of work, James Moriarty..."_

 

_"Quite the hardcore sales technique, forcing tours on potential clients," I manage to sound casual and unconcerned as I'm being manhandled down the hallway and through a back entrance. I sound slow, but I'm not struggling with words. "A bit heavy-handed for me, to be honest...Can we go back to the wining and dining approach? I was looking forward to the good, ol' American apple pahh..." I drawl._

 

_"Shut up," one of the men in the waiter uniform growls, jamming his gun under my ribs as I'm half-carried towards a waiting car._

 

_I turn to him. "Is now the right time to mention I never got my water? And I hate to complain but the steak was a tad overdone..."_

 

_His face turns red, and he grips my arm hard enough to bruise. "You little cocksucker-"_

 

_"Ignore him," says Francis. "He can crack wise all he likes. He's the one going in the trunk."_

_He passes us, grinning. He opens up the boot of a black car. "Your ride, Jimmy..."_

 

_"Oh - No one calls me that," I say, sounding apologetic and embarrassed. "Bad things tend to happen after..."_

 

_He shrugs. "Bad things are happening now." He turns to his men. "Pat him down, tie him up... and away we go."_

 

_They do, removing my knives. Then I'm secured with handcuffs behind my back, and thrown in the boot._

 

_Francis leans in. "I can't *wait* to have a longer conversation with you..." he grins._

 

_"Most people do everything under the sun to *avoid* a conversation with me..." I remark, and I finally give him a peek at my true face._

 

_He blinks, looks taken aback for a moment, then pulls himself together. "Enjoy the ride, Jimmy."_

 

_"You too, Francis..." I sing softly, caressing his name like a lover._

 

_I actually see him shiver before he slams the lid down and I'm alone in the darkness._

_There - I managed to pull out some psychopathic swagger, even in this predicament. I feel tears threaten to spill, but that would be counterproductive. Instead I push down those nasty vulnerable feelings, and as we drive to god-knows-where, Moriarty whispers seductively to me in his dark embrace._

 

 

I hear sirens as we get to William’s car. We need to get out of here. “Drive,” I tell him.

 

“Where!?” he sobs. Oh god how do I know?! I don’t know New York - I don’t even know London - and my head is starting to pound - ignore.

 

“Just drive away from here. I’ll tell you more in a minute. Do you have a phone?”

 

“Yes-“ he produces it from his inside pocket. Thank fuck he’s so collaborative...

 

“Unlock it.”

 

My right hand still doesn’t work but I can manoeuvre my arm enough to hold it up and kind of lean the phone in it, leaving my left hand to tap it whilst keeping the gun pointed at William, who’s crying while driving aimlessly - probably a safety risk, but at least he’s driving straight.

I look at the map, try to memorize it through my worsening headache. I hope the headache means the bloody pill is working...

I throw the phone out of the window to William’s dismay, growl at him to shut up, keep driving. After a few blocks, we park the car and walk to a subway station. William pays for tickets in cash, then we get on, change after a few stops, then change again, get off somewhere I can’t fucking read because my right eye is going funny. Thank fuck William is a very docile hostage, almost eager to please.

We stumble out of the subway - my right leg is having trouble too - probably look like a pair of drunks - and I ask two ladies who are passing if they know a hotel in the area. Fortunately, there’s one a few blocks down. We get there, pay in cash again, get into the room, where I drop onto the bed and tell William to make coffee - hope it helps counteract some of this blasted headache and fuzziness...

And then I realize my colossal mistake. If I’m unfindable - how am I going to get Jim back?

I nearly start crying - why doesn’t my brain work?! Why am I making mistake after mistake? Why am I so infernally useless to you?

 _Jim_... I’m so sorry... I’m so very sorry, Jim...

I drink my coffee. Please let it restore some of my faculties... I’m aching all over the right side of my body, my head is throbbing, and I’m so very tired...

 

 

_(Right, Jimmy. We're in this mess because you shoved me out of the way *so rudely*... all so you could begin a love story for the ages with your bodyguard, remember?)_

_There was nothing he could have done, I protest._

_(When have I ever been interested in the reasons behind people's failures? Now - are you going to roll over and play dead like a good boy... or do you want my help?)_

_Yes._

_(Which one?)_

_Seriously?? We don't have time..._

_(There's *always* time for a good gloating... if you want my help, you'll have to say so.)_

_Yes - I want your help..._

_(Pretty pleeeeease... with sugar on top. No, cherries!)_

_Fuck's sake!! Pretty please with cherries on top. Now are you going to help me?_

_(You don't deserve it, you know... but if you go, I go. So, we're in this together, petal. There's just one little thing you have to do for me...)_

_*What do you want*?_

_(We need to break our little Tiger's heart...)_

_*What*??_

_(*Pulverize it*, darling. Oh, we can still *keep* him... I do enjoy his body *very much*. The rest of the dollies were so whiny, so *breakable*... only Tiger has been strong enough to withstand our affections. So, he should get a reward - continued employment, with benefits. But no more sweet kisses. No more long, lovely showers. And by all that is holy, no more *fucking I love you's*. You've been hurting my ears with this drivel for *days*, and I've had enough. You will behave in a manner that is suitable for a criminal mastermind... not a besotted teenager sneaking around with a juvenile delinquent in torn trousers and scuffed boots. *Are we clear*?)_

_If it will make you stop ranting and start saving my life, then *yes*... just take care of this - now!! How do I get out of this boot?!_

_(Darling, there are *five* ways out of this boot... Did you not notice the toolkit by your head, and the car jack? Good grief, Jimmy- love is making you a half-wit...)_

_*Tell me what to do*!!!_

_(Pardon me while I sigh dramatically... did you not notice this model of car is American-made and post-2002? First, check for a trunk-release in case they were stupid enough to leave it there...)_

_I roll over with difficulty and fumble with my hands. *I think this is it*..._

_(Well then... time to escape the cuffs, Houdini. I guess you’ll need that pin I told you to never be without...)_

_I bend sideways and manage to get a hand into my pocket... I feel my muscles pull and strain in my back and I wince as a nerve is pinched. *Fuck*._

_Steady, Jimmy... I twist my wrist up to reach the cuff lock... after several attempts, and straining my wrist muscles, I manage to get the bent bobby pin into the lock._

_(Good thing *someone* made you practice endlessly...)_

_*Good thing*..._

_I turn it, holding my breath._

_*Click*..._

_(I didn’t hear a thank you...)_

_*You’ll get all the thank you’s and everything you want when I’m safe*!_

_I pull the cuffs off, sighing with relief._

_(Now, you *could* open the trunk and escape when they slow down, but there’s just one thing left to deal with...)_

_*What*?!_

_(You have no idea what drug he gave you... and he mentioned an antidote...)_

_I close my eyes and muffle a bloodcurdling scream._

 

 

The coffee helps - a little. William is cowering in the corner of the room, like physical distance will make the gun or me less dangerous. Not unreasonable judging from my current state - I wonder if I can still shoot straight.

I am trying to force my brain to think straight, but it's not collaborating. If only I knew any of your contacts in New York, I could get William off somewhere and negotiate with uncle Frank, but you had all the data. Even if my memory comes back tonight, I doubt I'll recall any phone numbers or addresses.

I wonder if I have had a stroke - the right side of my body feels numb and my right eye isn't working, and I don't remember reading that in the notes on the pills.

I could ask William, but I don't want to warn him of any weaknesses to exploit.

 

"Why did my uncle kidnap your friend?" the latter pipes up, the first time he's said anything besides sniffling since we left the restaurant.

 

"Do you have any idea what your uncle does?" I ask him.

 

"He trades in the drugs that I make and other pharmaceuticals..." William states. Really is an idiot savant then...

 

"And do you think that trade is entirely legal?"

 

He huffs. "The law shouldn't get in the way of inventions that can help humanity."

 

Oh. A genius who feels his gifts to mankind are beyond mere human preconceptions of good and evil. But how can he not see...?

"And how do you think a drug like Lethe would help anyone?" I ask.

 

"Trauma victims. People with PTSD - people who have an occurrence take over their entire existence! I'm working on making it better, so the memories never come back... And if it's not what they want, Mnemosyne can reverse the effects! It's completely safe!"

 

Yeah, tell that to my pounding head and drooping right side...

"So, if I were to tell you that your uncle is a crime lord using your drugs to get people out of the way...?"

 

He sets his jaw stubbornly. "People say that. I don't believe it. Uncle Francis warned me people would try to get me for themselves because I'm a genius."

 

Yes, dear. Of course you are.

"So, if he's not, why did he kidnap my friend? And why did he have people with guns in the restaurant?"

 

"To protect him and me from you! You started shooting people!"

 

... never argue with an idiot...

I give it one more try.

"William, your uncle... . He... " I really don't think he's dangerous - and there is a small chance he might be useful – let’s give it a go. "... regardless of what he may be, he got his men to inject me with Lethe against my will. I did not have PTSD or trauma – he just wanted to hurt my partner, Adam, because he is a rival… drug trader.

That’s why Adam contacted you. He wanted to get Mnemosyne to help me. Francis saw his way clear to getting rid of a rival and crashed your business meeting.”

 

William is looking at me with his mouth open.

“You took Lethe? And – did you take Mnemosyne just now?”

 

Not entirely clueless then… I nod.

 

“Oh that is _fascinating!_ Is that why your hand stopped working? I thought it might have effects on the left hemisphere but I didn’t see that in any test subjects until now! Could I examine you?”

I look at him, raise an eyebrow. He deflates.

“Sorry. I forgot I’m your – hostage or something. You want to trade me for your Adam?”

 

“That’s the thought, yes… I’d hope your uncle is fond enough of you to not kill Adam.”

 

“If he kills Adam, are you going to kill me?”

 

Damn it, kid, don’t ask stuff like that. You will not like the answer.

“Yes. And myself.”

I didn’t realize it until I said it. But it’s a huge relief. Realizing I won’t have to face the world without you… And that it doesn’t matter what risks I take to save you.

 

 

_I'm trying to keep my breathing steady. Hyperventilating will not help matters. No matter *how upsetting it is to be in a fucking boot in goddamn New York with motherfucking Uncle Frankie having me driven god knows where*..._

_I must stay *fucking calm*._

_I. Will. Stay. Fucking. Calm._

_I exhale slowly._

_(Are we done with our little hissyfit? Then listen up, Jimmy...)_

_I listen intently as the Moriarty part of my mind outlines the plan._

_It’s good, I think grudgingly._

_('Course it's *good*. Who do you think you're dealing with, my adorable little cupcake?)_

_I roll my eyes, and I open up the tool kit. I feel around and slide pliers and a torque wrench into my waistband._

_Then my hands close on the jack stand. And I wait..._

_Eventually the car slows down..._

_I tense, tighten my grip on the jack stand... as the trunk opens, I'm already flying out of it._

_A sickening crunch later, and a waiter falls unconscious to the ground with a cracked skull and profusely bleeding scalp._

_I grab his gun, and shoot the waiter who's leaping out of the car._

_That leaves Francis..._

_Francis who's looking back in shock and outrage, and quickly jumping from the car and running around the front in a crouch._

 

_"Frankie..." I sing out loudly. "I'm *SO BORED*!!!_

_Want to play a game, darling?"_

 

 

I will have to get in touch with Francis to negotiate - and the moment he has my number he'll be able to trace me. And the negotiation is too precarious for me to set the rules - arguably Jim has more value to me than William has to Francis. We will have to be able to communicate - but that means revealing our location, which puts me on the back foot.

 _Think_ , Tiger...

The papers said memories might start coming back after thirty minutes. So far so nothing. Just a brain that is refusing to cooperate, a headache that is getting worse, and a right side that isn't functioning.

"Do you have any idea how long this right-side debilitation might last?" I ask William.

 

"It's hard to say... like I said, I _suspected_ this side effect, I _predicted_ it, but it hasn't been shown in subjects - until now." He has the poor taste to look smug. Yes, marvellous, mister scientist, but I'm not a fucking _subject_ , I'm a Tiger who has to save his Kitten, and is half incapacitated, and completely out of his fucking mind with worry.

Fuck this - I have to do _something_. I will call Francis from this phone and then get another room, leave the phone in here, bribe the front desk to warn me if anyone comes asking - that should give us some advance warning at least.

I call up his number - one of the few I have - and ring it.

It keeps ringing. Come on, Francis... What the fuck are you doing?!

Images of a phone impotently ringing in a pocket of Francis' jacket abandoned on a chair while he is torturing you force themselves to the surface of my mind.

_JIM..._

 

I leave a voicemail. "Your nephew and I are eager to speak to you. I'll call back in an hour."

Fuck it, Jim... what's happening...

 

 

_I can hear a phone ringing... I can hear ragged breathing..._

 

 _"_ _Frankie?" I call out. "Are we playing a game or not? I should warn you, I'm going to take silence as *motherfucking yes*..." I'm still speaking slowly, but at least whatever you gave me didn't stop me from my little spree of violent mayhem._

_(*Yet*... Moriarty whispers. Get it done *now*.)_

_Right. I have a Tiger to rescue and a New Yorker mobster to destroy._

 

_"Yeah? Go fuck yourself!" he shouts, his voice shaking with fury. "You cock-sucking faggot motherfucker..."_

_My mouth tightens. I hear Moriarty laughing softly in the velvety darkness..._

 

_"Your pretty Tiger's probably a vegetable by now... how are you ever going to find him again, Jimmy?" he taunts, laughing._

_Oh, Frankie... you just keep burying yourself deeper and deeper..._

_I slowly and quietly slide onto the back of the car. I throw the pliers off to the side._

_Francis peeks around the corner with his gun pointing out. I hurl the torque wrench hard at his head._

_He screams and I storm across the car's roof and over the hood and jump on him, slamming his head against the ground._

_I lean my face in close to his, and he recoils._

 

_"You should *never* have brought him into this, Frankie," I snarl._

 

_One pistol-whipping later and he's out cold and rather bloody. I look around - we're in an empty car park outside of a warehouse._

_Perfect. But first I need my Tiger. And I suspect William will be close by..._

_I go to the boot, retrieve the handcuffs..._

_cuff Francis, and go through his pockets to retrieve his phone and the syringe..._

_Slowly I press some of the mystery drug into his neck, then recap it..._

_drag him into the backseat..._

_drag the waiters into the boot - one dead, one soon to be..._

_then I collapse into the front seat, weeping softly._

_*Tiger Tiger Tiger*_

_You have to be ok, you *have to*..._

_Hold on, my sweet Tiger... I'm coming..._

_With tears streaming down my face and my hands shaking, I call the number of your burner phone._

_Please tell me you activated it Tiger, please..._

 

 

Frankie calls back after a few minutes. Thank fuck. I don’t think I could have waited an hour.

It’s hard having only one working hand, especially when it’s your non-dominant hand and you’re having to use it to keep a gun in as well. Fortunately William is a good little hostage and stays nice and quiet on his chair in the corner of the room, which means that if he moves I have plenty of time to drop whatever else I’m holding and point the gun at him. Not that he’s likely to - but it won’t do to underestimate him.

I manage to pick up the phone and click the right button.

“Hello?”

 

 

_“Tiger??” I sag against the car seat, and I start to sob._

_“Oh god, *Tiger*!!”_

 

 

“ _Jim?!_ Jim!” Oh my god - you’re still alive - but -

He’s made you _cry?!_ What on Earth - you would _never_ cry in front of him - what’s he _done_ \- what’s he said - is this goodbye?! Is that why you’re crying?

“Jim! What’s happening?!”

 

 

_With great effort I pull myself together. “Frankie is secured...” I sniffle. “I shot the fucker full of his own drug so he’d have to tell me where the antidote is... Darling, are you all right?? Tell me where you are so I can pick you up...”_

 

 

Oh my god - Jim - you absolute complete and utter legend - my hero -

This makes my eyes fill with tears.

“I’m so sorry Jim... I failed you... I’m the worst bodyguard... I should have waited to take that fucking pill, I should have spotted the waiters... I’m so sorry...”

 

 

_“Sebastian, the drug affected you... you didn’t fail me!! And we don’t have time to fall apart right now, Tiger. I need to be with you... and I need this antidote. Tell me where you are, *please*...”_

 

 

Wait - what if Francis is forcing you to say that to get to William and me?

Would you sound like this? It’s hard to believe - but I don’t know what you normally sound like...

“I’m in the Park Hyatt on West 57th Street... room 116... Jim... I love you...”

We’re on the other side of the hotel, so that should give me a chance to see who arrives...

 

 

_“I love you too, Tiger... but I have two bodies in the boot, and Frankie in the backseat, cuffed and bleeding. I can’t park this car and come in to get you. I need you to meet me outside the hotel with Willie. Sebastian, I know you’re not sure if you can trust if I’m being held hostage... you don’t remember, but we have codes for this kind of thing. If it’s a trap, we say ‘I need a drink’... and I’m not saying that, because everything’s clear. All right?” I type coordinates into the phone. “I can be there in 15 minutes if I can keep from getting into a fucking accident. My first time driving on the wrong side of the road, and I’m in bloody New York with 2 bodies and a hostage. But trust me that I will get to you, come hell or high water... Just hang on Sebastian, all right?”_

 

 

“I’m fine Jim - but how did you know I have William?”

Unless Frankie listened to his voicemail and forced you to call?

 

 

_“Well, don’t you?? I just assumed you would take him hostage... did he get away? Fine, we have all the leverage we need since I gave Frankie the drug, too...”_

 

 

 

“No, he’s here... right... I’m sorry, I’m trying to think clearly, but it’s hard... my head is pounding...

I’ll see you at the coordinates - drive safely - I don’t want you to overcome New York’s gangster boss only to be killed by a fucking bus...

You’re amazing, Jim.”

 

 

_"There will be no bus accidents or anything else - neither of us are allowed to not be in front of the hotel in fifteen..." I say through gritted teeth._

_I lean over the seat, and roll Francis onto the floor onto his front. He falls silently in a heap. The last thing I need is some idiot tourist to see a body in the back, freak out and a call a cop over. New Yorkers probably wouldn't even notice..._

_I take off my jacket and throw it over his head, leaving his cuffed hands in view. I'd like to be able to keep an eye on him from my rear-view mirror._

_"Are you OK for a while longer, Tiger? Did the detox drug do anything to you?"_

 

 

“Yeah, disabled half my fucking body and gave me a massive headache. And got me my English back, so there’s that. No memory yet. William doesn’t know how long it will last, but is eager to examine me. I just want to see you, Jim... get here soon and safely. I love you."

 

"I love you too, Tiger..."

We hang up.

 

William is looking at me terrified.

"Who is Jim? Is it Adam? What happened to my uncle? Did he kill him? Are you going to kill me?!"

 

"Not quite yet - and I won't, if you behave. Jim has not killed your uncle yet either. We're meeting them in a bit. Put your jacket back on."

 

I do the wrap arm around William with gun under jacket routine again. We get down one floor, where the bar is, overlooking the street. We should be able to see you coming, and hopefully see enough to assess if you're being held at gunpoint...

I really doubt it, but I don't want to take any more stupid risks.

 

 

_I shut my door, pull on my seat belt and then just stare at the steering wheel. Can I do this? Yes, I can fucking do this... it's just been a long time since I've fucking done this. What other options do I have? Getting Francis to drive?_

_I turn the key in the ignition, and a strange thrill moves through me as the engine roars to life. I'm driving a mobster's car through New York to rescue my Tiger, with said mobster in the back, and two bodies in the trunk. I'm James Fucking Moriarty. Of course I can do this._

_I scroll through my music, throw together a fifteen-minute playlist... by the time it finishes, I'll be in front of the hotel. No excuses._

_The opening notes of Britney's '(I've Just Begun) Having My Fun' start playing, and I peel out of the car park grinning wildly._

 

 

The minutes drag by infinitely slowly. I chat softly with William, keeping up the slightly drunk lovers act. Thank fuck New York is much like London - as long as you're not actively annoying anyone, they'll leave you alone. My eye is getting better - I still have trouble focussing, but at least I can see with it.

Fifteen minutes have never lasted so infernally long. We have a good position to look inside the cars that drive by, but none of them slow down. A taxi does, unloads a passenger, and drives on. I look at the clock above the bar - thirteen minutes.

 

 

_The warehouse is in an industrial area, so the road isn't too congested - but once I hit traffic, it's all start, stop, start, stop... I glare at the clock and grind my teeth. *This* is why I don't drive... I'd rather be causing havoc on my laptop from the backseat._

_But I can't afford to drive like a hellion, much as I'd like to - so I make my way carefully towards the hotel. A steady flow of Duran Duran, Michael Jackson and Boney M to keep me from flooring it._

_Down the street from the hotel, I'm waiting at a light for what feels like a century when I hear a muffled moan from the back. I curse and glance in the rear-view mirror. No movement yet, and his hands are still in view. Still, I'll feel a lot better when you're here to keep an eye on him... assuming you'll be able to function with only half your body?? What the fuck! Willie better have some answers that will make me happy..._

_The light changes and suddenly filled with fury, I go tearing down the street. I see the hotel but no Tiger..._

_*Where the fuck is Tiger*??_

_I screech to a halt in front of the building, look furiously out the window, and call your number._

 

 

Seventeen minutes. I swear time moves slower in New York. It must have something to do with the latitude or something. A black car comes tearing round the corner, stops in front of the hotel. I see a furious Jim looking round, grabbing a phone.

Oh thank god. Thank god thank god thank god. It's you. You actually did it. You beat Francis Pott and his waiters. Oh my incredible hero -

I drag William up and walk out as fast as we can without running. My phone starts ringing, I can't pick it up without showing the gun - don't run off Jim - we're rushing down the stairs, limping down the foyer. My phone rings again - I can see you - see your angry, worried face -

We rush through the doors - "Adam!" I yell.

 

 

_Oh thank fuck... thank fuck, *thank fuck*..._

_You're walking awkwardly, dragging Willie with you. I watch intently as you near the car. I look left and right for potential threats. I glance in the back and see no movement, and hands still secured._

_And before I even realize what's happening, I'm out of the car and running towards you. I throw myself at you, and kiss you like there's no tomorrow as Willie looks on in confusion._

_*Get in the fucking car, you idiot*, Moriarty whispers darkly._

_I gaze at you for just a second, before snapping, "*In*. Willie in the front. Tiger in the back - keep an eye on Uncle Frankie, darling. We're not through with him yet..."_

_I open the doors, and walk around to the driver's seat. I wait until everyone’s seated._

_"William... your uncle gave me a drug that's made my speech slower. He also said there's an antidote... Do you have an idea of what the drug is, and the antidote? You might want to hurry... I gave it to him, too..."_

_Willie blinks at me. "Made your speech slower?? I have no idea... Uncle Francis was involved in drug development before I came on board, so I don't know everything... please don't kill me!!"_

_"Shut up, you silly fool," I say pleasantly. "Back to the warehouse, then... your uncle and I will have that conversation he was longing for... everybody buckled in?"_

_I shift gears and we roar down the street. Icona Pop's I Love It is playing loudly. I only hope the reference to crashing a car into a bridge and letting it burn is not prophetic..._

 

 

JIM.

JimJimJimJim.

My heart races, my mind is a blank, able to process only one single image - you jumping out of the car and running towards me.

And then your arms are around me, my right arm useless and my left still around William, and you're kissing me and I can _feel_ you, you're here, you beat them, Jim; you are the most sensational man on the fucking _planet_ ; they had you drugged and outnumbered and you fucking _beat_ them; you have an elite bodyguard but if he fails you just take care of stuff yourself, because you are beyond us mere mortals... God I love you. And god I am happy to see you alive and hopefully well.

We get into the car, me holding my gun comfortably aimed midway between Francis and William. Francis is out for the count, William is a blubbering wreck again, and you're bolting through the New York night with some horrid pop song blasting out of the speakers.

I am delighted.

 

 

_Quickly I fill you in on what you missed._

_“So, we need to have a word with Frankie about this antidote and it seems like the warehouse is a nice, private location... although I can’t say we won’t have visitors... it’s either that or call Joey Russo to ask for a secure location. But I don’t know how long that will take to get to, and I’m through with fucking waiting... I want to take care of this shit *now*... enough drug limbo. You ready to take on Frankie together, Tiger?” I grin at you in the mirror, and I catch my reflection. Well, that would be the quintessential maniacal smile... I can’t help but giggle with delight._

_I know we’re far from out of the woods but we’re together again, and about to torture someone for information... the windows are down, the wind is flying through my hair, and the night is in my veins... I blow a kiss to you and push the pedal to the floor._

 

 

Fuck, this is amazing... you and me in a car, speeding through New York, a gun in my hand, my demonic lover well and truly in charge of the situation, together again after we were so cruelly separated...

Fuck, Jim, I really thought I'd never see you again... Seeing you dragged out of that restaurant door... Thinking it was the last time I saw you... god, I never want to feel a pain like that ever again.

"If the warehouse is one of Francis' regular locations we might have people coming that we'd rather not encounter... can we go somewhere else?"

 

 

_“We *can*, darling... but if there’s an antidote, then it will be at one of his locations... the lab or the warehouse, probably... so we’ll have to go there eventually... But if you feel it's safer to go elsewhere, I'll contact Joey and ask for a safe location...”_

 

 

"You're right. OK, let's go there... after all, we have Francis and William."

And YOU. Fuck, Jim, you are even more of a legend than I already surmised. Even drugged, you managed to overcome one of New York's big crime bosses and his two cronies? If we weren't in a car and in company, I'd fall to my knees in front of you right now and worship you in my favourite way...

 

 

_"We'll just have to be vigilant while we make him sorry he was ever born," I say, watching you in the mirror. Fuck, I just want this to be over so I can be wrapped up in you..._

_"We should arrive in a few minutes... I'm making better time on the way back. I was trying very hard not to be pulled over on the way to get you, Tiger. Right now, I find myself not caring very much... I think law enforcement would be in over their heads if they tried..."_

_I glance at the floor. "How's Frankie doing? You could try to rouse him... Willie, do you know if the warehouse stocks adrenaline?"_

_He stares at me, wide-eyed._

_"Oh, come on... it would be *very* funny... for us, anyway."_

 

 

"I've never been there... I don't know where it is..." he complains.

I'm trying to work my right hand. It seems to move a _little_ bit, if I concentrate. It's like it's got pins and needles. I will take that as progress - my head hurts less and my eye is doing better as well. I guess it's just the diminishing side effects from the drugs, but I can't help but feel that it's your proximity making me better - I couldn't possibly be deteriorating while basking in your aura...

We pull into the warehouse car park.

 

 

_I turn the ignition off and scan the area._

_"Anything we need to worry about?" I ask. You're doing the same._

 

_"Not that I can see... yet."_

_I tap at the screen on my phone and pocket it._

 

_"We'll be quick. I'll get us in. Willie - help carry your uncle out. I don't think I need to tell you what we'll do to you if you try to escape or set him free?" I smile at him gleeful malice, and he shakes his head frantically._

_I exit the car, observing you and Willie slowly manoeuvring a limp Francis out from the back._

_I walk to the front door, note the model of the alarm system, and get to work._

_By the time Francis has been carried over (only being dropped a couple of times), I'm opening the door and beckoning you in._

 

 

My right arm isn't really collaborating so I'm trying to carry Francis with just my left, but William is not very coordinated and keeps moving in shocks and spurts and dropping him. If the drug isn't giving him a headache, the multiple times he bangs his head on the concrete will.

You've opened the door and William and I carry Francis inside. There's your classic setup of a wooden chair in the middle of the room with handcuffs and zip ties, some tasteful bloodstains on the floor to complete the picture - bile rises into my throat at the thought that that was where he was going to put _you_.

William blanches as we put his uncle on there. I can't help but remark, "So this is where your uncle does his entirely non-criminal drug trades..."

 

 

_While Francis is being secured to the chair, he begins to wake up. He's very drowsy, quite confused... by the time his eyes are fully open, everything has clicked into place and it's far too late for him to do anything about his unfortunate circumstances. His eyes widen in fear, and he tries to jump up out of the chair only to fall back._

 

_"And so the cat becomes the mouse..." I intone, patting his cheek none too gently. "The world's a topsy-turvy place, Frankie..."_

 

_"What do you want?" he snarls, straining against the zip ties and cuffs._

 

_"What do *I* want? You're the one who wanted a nice, long conversation with me... remember?" I lean down and smile at him sweetly. "What did you want to say to me? I'm *all ears*, honey..."_

_You clear your throat, and I look up to see you tap your wrist. You look worried, and keep your eyes fixed on the door._

 

_"Look, this has gone on far enough! You got the detox drug, what else do you want?"_

 

_"What did you inject me with, Frankie?" I say softly. "And is there an antidote?"_

 

_His mouth becomes a flat line. "It'll be out of your system by now... nothing to freak out about..."_

 

_"How do you feel about having it in *your* system, darling?"_

 

_He looks horrified. "*What*."_

 

_I pull out the syringe from my inside pocket, and uncap it. "Already gave you some... if it's that harmless, I suppose I could give you some more and it won't be a problem?" I push the plunger slightly and watch as clear liquid sprays up into the air._

 

 

I keep my gun in my left hand, ready to shoot William, threaten Francis, or shoot anyone coming through either the front or the side door. Too many targets for my peace of mind in an unfamiliar place, with my body unreliable, and you under the influence of a drug that may or may not be dangerous - Francis seems not entirely sure, though he recoils when you approach him with the syringe.

 

 

_"Oh, you little..."Francis growls, then stops. He gets a funny look on his face, and tries again. "Little... cock...sucker..." he says slowly, then lets out a strangled yell._

_"All right..." he says carefully, sounding considerably slowed down. "William - this drug mimics the effects of dysarthria. It affects speech patterns in different ways, depending on the person... we need the detox drug you based Mnemosyne on. Section B13... get it *now*…"_

_I wave my gun at Willie and he rushes off towards the shelving units._

 

_"Why did you develop this drug?" I ask curiously._

 

_Francis looks sullen. "It makes doctors think someone has had a stroke or a brain injury..."_

 

_"Are you just in the business of fucking up people's minds?" I ask, shaking my head. "Where's the money in that?" Or is it just for pleasure?"_

 

_"Well, it's a pretty fucking good way of getting people out of the way without murders being traced back to your organization..." he says smugly and slowly. "If someone's all fucked up with slurred speech or a case of amnesia or having seizures or experiencing temporary paralysis... they're generally useless and panicking... and doctors can't always figure out how to help them..."_

 

_"And then you come along and offer a drug to help them for an exorbitant amount of money?" I ask, piecing it together._

 

_"If they're lucky," he says in a nasty voice. "Sometimes they just rub me the wrong way..."_

 

_I narrow my eyes at him. "Oh, did I rub you the wrong way, darling?" Would you like Sebastian to rub you the right way?"_

 

_Willie comes rushing back with a box. "Is this it, Uncle Francis?"_

 

_"Yes! Give it to me!"_

 

_"Willie... be a doll and show me the instructions first..."_

 

_I read through them, scanning the chemical components with interest. "All right... give it to him first."_

_As Willie opens up a bottle and shake out two small blue pills, I catch your eye, and mouth 'I love you'._

 

 

...

... ...

Jim...

...

... ...

Jim is saying he _loves_ me!? JIM!?

What the hap is fuckening? Pourquoi est-ce que ma main droite ne fonctionne pas? Wer ist der Typ auf dem Stuhl? آيا خطرناک است؟

My mind is a whirlpool of images, words, voices, screams, gunfire, running, a guy jumping out at me with a machete... I step back, vaguely aware I have a gun in my hand - it's pointing upward - I don't want to shoot anyone right now - or do I? Where am I? Afghanistan or Iraq? Too much noise - too many people - shut up - _shut up_ \- " _SHUT UP!!!_ " I cringe into a ball.

 

 

_Instead of responding, you look shocked, and you freeze... Tiger?_

_And then it looks like you’re panicking... Sebastian??_

_And now you’re having some kind of flashback??_

_Oh what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!!!_

 

_“What’s happening to him, Willie?” I snarl, pointing the gun to him._

_Francis laughs snidely. I glare at him in a fury._

 

_“Sebastian?? I’m here, it’s Jim...” I slide my gun into my waistband and walk slowly towards you._

 

 

Jim? That name is important - cuts right through all the noise - JIM - Jim overrides all other concerns - must save Jim...

Jim is here!? Why is Jim here? Where _is_ here, anyway?

London? Jim is London, isn't it? Jim Moriarty - crime lord - I work for him - he fucks me -

like David - no wait - _pain_

\- no that was when I was a kid - dad - monster - _PAIN_

... soldiers - fuck them too - so many dusty clothes on the sand - shooting - blood - screams -

No we've done this bit -

mum? what are you doing here?

 

"Sebastian..."

 

JIM!!

Jim is in trouble - they took him - get _out_ of this soldier, save Jim -

I open my eyes, look up - there's Jim - three Jims, for now, floating around each other in interesting colour patterns, but you seem alright for now...

 

"Jim? You alright?"

 

 

_You seem to be going through a multitude of emotions, one after the other... I move closer to you, say your name... you look at me, eyes unfocused._

_Then you say, “Jim? You alright?”_

_I crouch down to where you’re still curled up on the floor. Gently I lay a hand on your shoulder. “I’m fine, Sebastian. How do you feel?” I ask gently. “Do you - remember where we are?”_

 

 

"No - yes - maybe. Remember - there was a thing about remember - I didn't remember?" Slowly events from the past few days trickle in one by one, in no particular order. William - that guy is his uncle - drugs - I was drugged?

Aeroplane - heart with our initials - my blood - you saying -

you saying-

"You love me!?!"

 

 

_"Ah - yes?" My hand curls around the back of your neck, and caresses you. "As of three days ago, *yes*…"_

_"You were drugged by the bastard in the chair and it took away your memory. So, you're remembering bits and pieces... you remember your life before the last few days?"_

 

 

"Yes - yes, I do - bits and pieces - lots of blood and violence. And sex. Probably the most intense bits that come back first - oh my god -" A _particularly_ debauched evening with you enters my mind, and I grin. "Wow - glad I got _that_ back - remember Glasgow?" You grin widely.

The memories from the last few days and the memories from the time before that dance uneasily around each other, like cats who aren't certain whether the other is friend or foe.

Oh my god - I said _I love you!?_ What the _fuck_ was I thinking!?

And you - you - love me?!

That was all it took? I just had to _say_ it?!

Oh - and nearly die - or at least make you think I did -

Oh my god. And now we're in New York tracking down the bastard who drugged me - which is the guy in the chair - the other is his - nephew, chemist - and you - you beat him singlehandedly after he'd dragged you out of the restaurant - oh you wonderful creature -

I pull you close - with my right arm! It's working! - and kiss you.

"You fucking absolute legend, Jim Moriarty. I _knew_ you loved me, deep down. I fucking _knew_ it.

Now - let's get this party started..." I stand up, move my gun to my right hand, grin at Francis who is looking at us with disgust, and a perplexed William.

 

 

_My heart leaps when you look at me with your old cocky grin and you kiss me._

_My heart does complete somersaults when you rise like a fucking predator and point your gun at Francis._

_"Oh, *Tiger*..." I exclaim, clapping my hands. "Is it time for the violence yet, are you going to be violent *now*?"_

 

 

"Whenever you want, Boss - did you and uncle Francis take your little blue pills?"

 

 

_“Francis did... I wanted to see how he reacted first. It wouldn’t do for both you and I to be struggling with the same symptoms... but you seem to be getting better now. And I don’t know how much time we have in this warehouse before someone pays us a visit - for all we know, he’s arranged for someone to come if he doesn’t contact them. And my symptoms haven’t been bothering me for a while, but - I don’t want to worry about them hitting me later. So... I guess I should take it, and hope for the best.”_

_I look over to Francis, glaring at me, but still conscious, and Willie, holding the bottle. I hold out my hand. “Dose me. And don’t get any funny ideas - if something goes wrong, Sebastian will *kill* you.” I grin at you, feeling my eyes gleaming. “Won’t you, darling...”_

 

 

"Eventually..." I grin.

I could get used to this - you calling me darling and it sounding like you actually mean it...

"Does this have any side effects, William my boy?"

He shakes his head. "Not enough data - so far nothing worse than a hoarse throat and a headache, but I still maintain that was because that test subject was recovering from a cold."

"Right - darling Boss, do you think we could go somewhere else where we could have a more _relaxed_ conversation with Francis?"

 

 

_“I think that could be arranged, my sweet Tiger...” I say, checking my phone for a message from Joey Russo - he had sent the address of a safe location, and a numeric code to get in. Perfect._

 

_Francis makes a gagging noise. “Darling boss... sweet Tiger... Jesus Christ, you call yourselves criminals? You two are the sappiest motherfuckers I’ve *ever* had the misfortune to see... it’s *embarrassing*...”_

 

_I burst out laughing. “Francis, that hurts... We’re doing our very best to be professional in trying circumstances... but if we’ve failed to impress, then I guess there’s no need for pretence anymore. Tiger - *come here*.”_

_You walk over to me and I pull you into a fierce kiss. The kiss I wanted to give you when I was being dragged away from you... then when we were reunited at the hotel, and finally when your memory came back..._

_Then I throw my arms around your neck and wrap my legs around your waist and kiss you madly._

_“Hi, Tiger...” I whisper. “I’ve missed you *so much*...”_

 

 


	18. Game Fucking Over

"And I missed you, my Dark Lord... my sweet love... my Kitten," I grin.

"I'm so glad you're OK - I was so worried," I whisper, then kiss you - not closing my eyes, have to keep an eye on our friends, but god, Jim - I can just kiss you now!? Old Tiger and new Tiger are comparing notes and Jims and old Tiger is rather overwhelmed at what new Tiger has managed to build up with old Tiger's impossible psychopath boss.

"Right - let's get going, BossKitten..." I purr. I get some rope from the floor, start untying Francis and trussing him up so we can put him back on the floor of the car. I throw him over my shoulder, walk outside to the car as you follow with William.

 

 

_You seem in awe of our bond... god Tiger, I can’t wait to get you alone and *really* show you..._

 

_“There’s another warehouse in another industrial area not far from here... should only take ten minutes. Just enough time to listen to my driving playlist I just made... Tiger, you’re going to *hate* it...” I say, beaming at you._

 

_You grin at me and throw Francis into the back, laughing as he curses._

_William slides into the front staring at me cautiously as I throw myself into my seat, grinning and cuing up my music._

 

_“We should go for a weekend getaway when we’re back home... I’ll pick the tunes, I’ll drive, and you can sit back and enjoy, Tiger...” I shout over Britney, shift gears and go tearing out of the car park. As I make a sharp right, Francis slides across the seat and bangs his head against the door, cursing the entire time._

 

 

"How about _no_ \- you drive like a maniac and your tunes are no better," I shout back. "I mean, I'm all for a bit of good torture, but this goes too far even for me..."

 

Fortunately, the drive is mercifully short - only Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, and Kool and the Gang torment my ears before you stop at another warehouse, looking much like the first. I half expect another chair waiting inside, but instead it's full of wooden crates and plastic-wrapped pallets. For want of a better location, I plant Uncle Francis on top of a crate.

 

He scowls at me. I scowl back.

"You're the fucker who gave me an experimental drug that made me lose my memory. You wanted to kill the love of my life, the most dangerous man in London, the dark angel in a Westwood suit, and pin his murder on me. You planned to replace him with one of your own cronies.

You were dead from the moment you decided to take on Jim Moriarty, Francis. You just failed to realize."

 

 

_“Oh, *bla bla bla*... I bet I got closer to your precious jellybean than anybody ever has... am I right?” Francis sneers._

 

_I glare at him and pace behind you. Why... doesn’t he seem more frightened? Something’s not right..._

_I hear footsteps approaching the door._

 

_“Tiger...” I say urgently. You heard it too, and you’re waving me behind a stack of pallets. I go and William slinks behind me. You flatten against a wall, watching the door._

 

_Francis grins. “You probably should have gotten rid of my phone and the car... tracking devices, ever heard of them?”_

_Shit..._

_The footsteps get closer..._

 

 

Fuck... still not on the ball, are you, Sebastian?!

But I have a semi-automatic in a right hand that's working.

However - Francis wouldn't look so at ease if they were just going to come in through the front door ready to be shot by me... so - he must have a strategy in place for a situation like this. What would you have done?

The footsteps towards the front door are clearly audible, so they must be a decoy. Meaning that the actual people coming in are sneaking softly through a side door - and I haven't checked the place out yet -

slow, slow Sebastian...

There's another warehouse to the left of this one, but not to the right. Any side door would therefore be on the right - meaning I have to walk past the main door to get there -

I rush to the big pile of crates opposite the main door, guessing they won't come blazing through there because they don't know they might not hit their boss. I look around the corner - there's a small wooden door which is currently being very gently and quietly forced open. I dash to the wall, move slowly closer to the door - it disappears from sight, a guy rushes in with his gun out - a bullet and he's gone. I tear around the corner shooting - one guy is trying to crouch, the other is moving back - they're dead.

The guy or guys making the footsteps must have heard the shots, so they could do either of two things - they might try to force their way into the front door, or move around the corner to see if they can get the shooter. The front door is riskier, since they don't know if there might be someone else there with a gun trained on them, so I'm guessing they'll go for the corner. I run to the front door, which isn't moving, so hopefully they thought the same as I did - I burst through it, seeing a guy crouching, peering round the corner. A shot - he's gone.

I look around. A car with the doors open, no one inside.

That must have been it.

We'd better move, though. And get rid of anything that might track Frankie. I wonder if he's had a chip implanted under his skin... he seems like the type...

 

 

_I watch as you work out where they’re coming from, and neutralize them._

_*Clever* Tiger... *Deadly* Tiger... oh, you are *so* getting blown tonight... and the next night... and the next... we just have to live to see another day..._

_“All right, we have to go... I’m going to have to let Joey Russo know this warehouse needs to be cleaned... and ask for a new warehouse and a new car... this is all very vexing...”_

_I toss the phone on the floor, and use mine to make a quick call to Joey. He’s less than thrilled in his very New York mafioso way (although to be fair, I think he’s more annoyed about having his dinner interrupted)… until I promise to order a huge shipment of weapons, and then everyone’s friends again. I sigh and hang up._

_“A car is on its way - here in five minutes. The other warehouse is down the road. They’ll deal with all the bodies. We just have to sit tight...”_

_I grasp the lapels of your jacket and pull you closer to me. “I know, we have to be vigilant... But does five minutes give us enough time for any torture? Snogging? Sex acts in front of the hostage?”_

 

 

"We have William to think about too," I grin at you. "If it were just Frankie, I'd be all for fucking in front of him, since I suspect it'd make him extremely uncomfortable... and that's exactly what I'm after. But William has been such a good hostage up to now, we wouldn't want to spoil that by tempting him to try to free his uncle or make a grab for a gun, would we? My dark love... when we get to the other place, and have William safely tucked away somewhere, I will get down on my knees and worship you like you deserve..."

 

 

_I shiver as I look into your eyes. “I’m sure you’re right... but I can’t wait to have you naked and writhing underneath me, Sebastian... oh, the things I’ll do to you, my darling...”_

_My tongue darts out over my lips. “So, not now... but *soon*...”_

 

 

Your eyes... deep dark pools of mystery as ever, but with an extra gleam to them - I'm not imagining this, there is an actual warmer glow in them. Your eyes are so incredibly expressive, you can make people shit themselves just by looking at them, you can bring me to my knees with my cock rock hard with those eyes, you use them to change characters in the blink of an eye, but this is something new - genuine affection. Not the play-acting one you put on when we pretend to be a loving couple - so bittersweet - there was always a tinge of sarcasm around the edges then, and the affection disappeared the moment we were alone. This is real. Oh my god.

This warehouse, with its plastic-wrapped pallets, its dirty concrete floor, its bare brick walls, its strip lighting, has suddenly become a candle-lit boudoir in which the man of my dreams is looking at me longingly. I swear there is a golden glow to your hazel irises, a sight never seen until these last few days - and I didn't then nearly fathom the immensity of the gift I was getting...

God...

Jim...

love...

Fuck this.

I shoot Francis and William.

 

 

_You’re looking back at me, and I nearly stop breathing at the adoration and desire I see in you. If I thought you were passionate the last few days, how much more so will you be, knowing the enormity of what has occurred between us... Even I’m feeling swept away by it, longing to be with you again. I’m still looking at you when you turn to shoot the hostages._

_*What*-?_

_I stare blankly at the bodies._

_“Oh...” I breathe. “*Oh*.”_

_I turn back to you. “We have four minutes, darling... Let’s not waste another second.”_

_I throw myself at you and pull you down to my lips._

 

 

"Jim... fucking hell... Jim...

I'm sorry, but I couldn't for one moment let that lowlife stand in the way of us enjoying each other..."

My voice is muffled by you kissing me, your tongue entering my mouth, and I'm lost - god, Jim... you've kissed me with hunger before but never when you _loved_ me... oh my god James Moriarty _loves_ me... this god among men, angel thrown from heaven for his beauty and hubris, demon lord, most dangerous man in London... the man I've venerated and served for so long... the man I've killed for, so often; the man I would have died for...

Oh my god - I just remembered -

you're going to get a _tattoo_... a tiger on your back...

Good grief, New Tiger, what have you been _up_ to!? What miracles have you wrought for me, you angel from heaven?

You bite my neck and I shiver and moan...

 

 

_“Well, it *was* unexpected...” I kiss and lick your neck before moving onto your earlobe, sucking on it gently before giving it a sharp nip. “I thought you’d want to torture Francis for what he had put you through. But I’m not complaining... I have three and a half minutes alone with you... although not a lot of time for a sex act in front of the dead hostages,” I say regretfully, as I kiss and nuzzle your face._

_“But it will be that much sweeter when you’re stripped naked and panting in our hotel room... which we can do sooner than expected. We don’t have to get rid of the car or the bodies... we got the detox drugs... We’ll take the box, just to be safe. We don’t need to go to the other warehouse, now... And with Francis and all his cronies gone, I’m not sure there’s a threat anymore. But we could assess that tomorrow. Three minutes, Tiger...” I bring my lips back to yours and kiss you hungrily._

 

 

"I bet I could make you come in three minutes," I growl into your neck, cupping my hand over your cock. "But I'll restrain myself, so the victory fuck to come will be all the more sensational... I'm going to make you shout out my name in ecstasy... over and over again... By tomorrow the entire hotel will want to know who this Sebastian is..." I grin.

"I want to do _everything_... kiss you for hours... suck you in the shower... cry out under your whip... make sweet sweet love to you... be fucked hard and good... god Jim, I've _missed_ you... I know I haven't been away, but I kind of have..."

 

 

_“Mmmph... until we get calls of concern from hotel management, I will not be satisfied. I’ve missed you too, Tiger...” I whisper, holding your face in my hands. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again- the whole you, I mean. And I loved you as you were, but I just so wanted you to know *everything* - about yourself, about our time together... and that you could *so* make me come in three minutes...” I grin. “But I’m looking forward to that loud victory fuck... and possibly being asked to never stay at that hotel again...”_

 

 

"Alternatively, get pulled aside by the manager offering a free stay if he can have a seat in the corner with a notebook...

More and more memories are trickling in, but they're kind of mundane and not really demanding much attention. I remember my grandma's cats, for example. One of them was called Sam, can't recall the others yet. I suspect they'll come without much fanfare. I do remember _you_ , though - and you've _changed_ under New Tiger's care... I like what he's done with you... I can't believe the sheer death-defying recklessness he displayed - but apparently it is what works with Moriarty..." I smile at you fondly.

I hear footsteps approaching again, not trying to be stealthy - I assume that's Russo's men. Reluctantly, I let you go. You wouldn't want them seeing us snuggling like two lovebirds...

 

 

_I want to scream when you let go of me. I just got you back, *all of you*... and I *don’t care* about what random criminals think about us, I really don’t. But you were targeted because someone must have known about our dalliance - we haven’t been careful and discreet 100% of the time these past six months. Part of me enjoyed the thought of people finding out. If anyone realizes feelings are involved, not just sex - then we’re both in bloody trouble._

_But then... it felt so good to just do what we wanted and be who were in front of Francis..._

_I’ll have to think on this some more, and talk it over with you. My heart flutters at the thought... having someone to discuss a problem with, face it together..._

_I start to move towards you to kiss you, and then stop myself again._

_Russo’s men are here, and one introduces himself very politely and respectfully as Anthony Morello and says they’re to give us whatever help we need - I let them know there’s been a change of plans, we won’t need the other warehouse or car, we just need a driver. And that they should get rid of the bodies, and abandon the car and the phone. I also suggest that Joey Russo and I have a conversation tomorrow - I may want to go through some of these drugs and have them shipped for the Empire’s use._

_Anthony promises they’ll take care of everything, and escorts us to the car where the driver is waiting._

_I tell the driver only where the nearest major intersection is. Joey and I go way back, but I didn’t get to where I am today by blindly trusting allies._

_When we’re sitting in the back, since I can’t hold your hand, I start scrolling through my phone. “I was going to play this song while you tortured Francis. I prefer the original by Michael. But I know you like the harder version, darling...”_

_Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm starts playing. You’re laughing as we listen to it, and soon we’re both singing along to the chorus. The driver seems confused at first, but then his head starts bobbing along. By the end we’re shouting the lyrics and substituting ‘Frankie’ for ‘Annie’. I fall against you laughing. When I finally stop, I stare up at you, pressed against your strong body - and I don’t give a fuck what the driver thinks..._

_Your eyes are shining and you’re smiling down at me._

_The driver pulls up to the corner. I thank him and we get out - and as we walk towards the hotel, I grab your hand._

 

 

I can’t believe we’re singing, giggling, and – god forbid - cuddling in a car -

Bloody hell. I’m kind of glad I didn’t torture Frankie - though he deserved it, he did give me the greatest gift of my life - the real Jim Moriarty, the man underneath the cold mask - the man who I suspected might be there, but could never reach, until I literally lost my mind. I’m so incredibly happy I got this... it was worth all the hassle, all the struggle - though I do hope that this is it, and I don’t wake up tomorrow morning with yet another weird symptom - especially since I wasted William. He might have come in handy... oh well. There are plenty of smart chemists in the world.

We walk boldly hand in hand, smiling at each other, for all the world like one of your character couples - but this is _real_. I still can hardly believe it...

We get our stuff - as your Head of Security I bravely resist your irresistibility - and head to the subway underway to yet another hotel - not too far away, thank fuck, because we _really_ can’t keep our hands off each other. Fortunately, New Yorkers are much like Londoners in their ability to ignore things happening right in front of them.

 

 

_Clever Tiger, getting us to change hotels... it feels strange carrying our own luggage, travelling on the subway. I suppose we could have taken a cab, but it feels like an adventure being anonymous out in public in New York after the day we’ve had. Not entirely blending in - my back is pressed to a subway pole, and you’re kissing me - when did this start? We’re whispering and giggling together, and these people ignoring us don’t know who Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran are... or that a New York crime boss was just vanquished by Us._

_“They have no idea, Tiger...” I whisper to you. You grin - you know exactly what I mean._

_By the time we get to the new hotel and the door closes behind the valet, we’ve had enough waiting. We jump on each other, kissing frantically._

 

 

I’m glad my coordination is back to being alright, because I’ve picked you up and thrown you onto the bed before I’ve really thought about it. I pounce on top of you and we are a tangle of limbs, mouths kissing, hands pulling at clothes, feet kicking at shoes, shirt buttons going flying like a porn cliché, and soon we are naked, gasping and grasping, moaning and stroking.

 

 

_When we’re finally naked, I’m pulling you down towards me, trying to bring you closer._

_“I want you,” I gasp. “*Fuck* me… don’t be gentle...”_

 

 

Oh god - is that really _you?!_ Jim?! Did New Tiger trade you in for a new model, a more tractable psychopath?

I'm not arguing... I've been dreaming of you saying this for _ever_... dreams which quite often turned into heated wanks... and now I get to _live_ that fantasy? Without you tightly holding the strings, telling me what I can and can't do... I get to actually fuck you as an equal partner...

Wow.

Your wish is my command, Kitten... _Fuck_ , I want you...

Fortunately, I knew that we'd be all over each other as soon as the door was shut behind us, and possibly even before that, so I'd conveniently put the lube in the front pocket of my bag - which is _in_ conveniently located on the other side of the fucking room -

A quick dash, and I'm back - on top of you, kissing, moaning, growling, hands everywhere, not enough hands to hold all of Kitten -

lube on a finger, inside you - so hot, so tight -

god _Jim_ -

nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of this - by how incredibly horny I am for you - by the knowledge that you _love_ me -

more lube - another finger - you groaning underneath me -

my cock nearly bursting -

it'll have to do - Jim - Jim, I _need_ you -

I push your legs up, put my cock in my hand, lead it inside you -

" _JIM_..."

 

 

_“*Yesss*, Tiger...” I gasp as you’re pushing into me. “Oh fuck, darling... you feel so good...”_

_You push in deeper, groaning._

_“I missed you, Sebastian... *I missed you*. Never leave me again, darling...” I moan, thrusting my pelvis up to meet yours, and feeling my muscles squeezing deliciously against your cock._

 

 

The dichotomy between who you have always been and who is here in this bed now almost breaks my brain, which is already so battered from first being wiped and then restored, and exhausted, but really mostly delighted -

Jim loves me.

I love Jim and I can freely say it.

I’m fucking Jim and he’s saying he’s missed me.

My mind decides it’s been through enough for now, it’s going to just sit back and let my body do the work, ok?

My body is _fine_ with that, because it’s surrounded by Jim, pulled closer by Jim, grabbed by Jim...

I give a roar and push all the way inside you - you said not to be gentle...

 

 

_I think there's a lot going on in your mind, and I can't wait to interrogate you about it..._

_But right now, you're being mmm, *aggressive* Tiger... who I always secretly found hot, but I had to find convoluted ways to channel your aggression into very specific circumstances... and then promptly punished you for my enjoyment. God, that was fucked..._

_I'm not controlling you now... other than to helpfully *suggest* I would enjoy your forcefulness._

_And *oh*, did you hear me... god, the sound you made!! I almost came right then and there - but it's far too early, even if this first time will be rushed and frantic._

_"Oh god..." I groan. "You are so fucking amazing, Tiger..."_

_I dig my nails into your back as you thrust into me. "Give me everything - everything you are, everything you're feeling. I want all of it, Sebastian..." I rant, in a haze of rising ecstasy._

_I look up at you, my eyes half-closed. "I want *all of you*..." I whisper._

 

 

God - Jim - don't - I'm so raw, emotionally, so much has happened these past days...

And I'm _yours_ , so totally entirely yours, even more than I was before the amnesia - back then you had me, mind, body, and soul - now you also have my heart...

I revere you like a deity, and to have you here in this bed, being _taken_ by me - it's inconceivable.

But that's mind-stuff again, and we were going to let my mind take a break...

"Give you all of me? You've always had all of me... but you didn't always care to look at all of it. And now - now you've seen it all - embraced it all... and you seem to like it - nay, _love_ it...

God, Jim, that's _so_ overwhelming for me - it's - it's almost like I went away for a week and came back to find out that my twin brother has sorted my life out. Except I remember him doing it as well - and it _was_ me -

it's all too weird. But anyway - I love you so incredibly much, always have done, and it's _so_ good to be able to say it ... and to hear it back is just... incredible. God, Jim - you're amazing. I love you, I worship the ground you walk on, I would have been happy spending the rest of my life just serving you... but this... getting to love you, fuck you, cuddle you... it's all I'd never thought I'd ever have, and all I've ever longed for."

I feel tears streaming down my face, but it's alright... you won't get turned off by the weakness... we're both allowed to be weak now, because we are allowed to support each other...

 

 

_Well, that wasn't the response I expected... I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't tears..._

_Shit... was I insensitive... *again*? I thought I was doing better... fuck!!_

_"Oh... *Tiger*. Should I - not have said that? I'm sorry..." Tentatively I take your face in my hands and kiss your lips gently. "I only meant - it felt like I had part of you, but I still loved you madly... because it was the very best part. And even if your memory had never come back, that wouldn't have changed. But I felt so *guilty* all this time because I missed the rest of you. Imagine, Sebastian - *me* feeling *guilt*. This has become part of my bloody daily routine, now..."_

_I kiss you again helplessly as tears continue to stream down your face. "Oh, my sweet Tiger... I can see why you'd feel weird... It'll just take you some time to adjust... Do you - want to stop?? Whatever you need, Sebastian - just tell me what you need..." I press my lips to your face over and over._

 

 

"No... no, I'm sorry Jim... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you... it's just, when you said 'everything you are feeling'... I'm feeling _so much_... but it's all good... I love you so fucking much, James Moriarty... and the things that happened in the last few days are just so - mindblowing... And you - saying you love me? Saying you feel fucking _guilty!?_ Can you imagine how _weird_ that feels?" I laugh.

"But - no, I definitely do _not_ want to stop..." Damn it Sebastian, you've wanted this for _ages_ , pull yourself together and _fuck_ this man like he deserves to be fucked.

"Because I have been wanting to fuck you _hard_ for a very long time, Jim... and you're going to get _exactly_ what you've asked for... "

I pull out slightly, _thrust_ into you... _Fuck_ , that feels good...

 

 

_My hands continue to caress your face, and I listen intently as you speak._

_I need to squeeze every drop of empathy and understanding I can from my psyche in the coming days, to be supportive of what you're going through. If my well runs dry, I'll figure out how to synthesize *more*... however much you need... because you will not want for love and support while I walk this earth, Sebastian Moran..._

_But your vulnerable moment seems to have passed, because suddenly you're informing me you're going to give me what I asked for and fuck me hard, and it comes across like a delicious threat, and oh god *yes*, I want it, *give it to me*, Tiger..._

_Do you ever... a moment later, I'm moaning and writhing with pleasure underneath you._

_"*Fuck*, Sebastian..." I pant in surprise. "We should do this more often..."_

 

 

I laugh out loud at that. "Well, _who_ is the bossy fucker who won't normally let me fuck him?" I thrust hard... again... your moans are delicious...

"Finally realize what you've been missing out on? The full glory of Sebastian Moran unleashed?" I growl, biting your neck, making you groan most delectably.

"We're going to have such fun, Boss... it's like you've kept half of me locked up and finally decided that that bit of Tiger is nice to play with too... and it most certainly is... This side of Tiger may _bite_ occasionally, but only in the nicest way possible... " I nibble on the other side of your neck.

"For now, this side of Tiger is going to take revenge for all the times when you wouldn't let him take that sweet sweet arse... I'm going to fuck you _so_ hard, baby... " I groan as I drive myself into you again and again. "I wish I could say I am going to fuck you until you cry, but I won't be able to do this for too long without coming... you're so incredibly hot, Jim... fuck... you drive me _crazy_... "

I'm driving myself crazy too, with all this talk, with your hot, tight arse around me - fuck...

I release all pretence at control, lean onto your shoulders and let go... pounding into you again and again... _So_ good... god, Jim...

 

 

_"Oh *god*... I'm the bossiest fucker you'll ever meet..." I gasp, as you drive into me. "*Unleash*, Sebastian, I *want* you to..."_

_I dig my nails into your back and scratch hard. I think by the end of this night your back will be bloody and I won't be able to sit comfortably, but aggressive Tiger is fucking hot, and oh my god, I want more..._

_"My beautiful - savage - Tiger... *Revenge-fuck* me, darling... you know I have it coming..." I growl, and dig my nails into your lower back._

 

 

You seem to be all for this... which is good, because I don't think I could stop now if I had to...

 _God_ you're hot, _god_ you feel good... Jim... god, Jim... I can't believe I'm doing this... I'm fucking James Moriarty... and he wants me to... and he's scratching me open, which only fires me up more...

And then there is no more thought, no more contemplation, just you and me... the fire in all my nerves, which pulses out from my loins to set my entire body alight... your face screwed up in a rictus of pleasure... your nails drawing paths of exquisite pain down my back... my mind filled with nothing but YOU, you, you... Jim... love Jim... sexy Jim... beautiful Jim... darling Jim... want Jim... Jim, Jim... Jim...

Your eyes fill my vision, your scent my nostrils, your moans my ears... there is nothing else in existence, except you.

I am hurtling cock-first to the edge of the cliff, and the fall is going to be spectacular...

The universe contracts to a tiny spot inside my testicles... and then explodes into sensation throughout my body - pulses of expansive pleasure rack my body, making me convulse; surge after surge of pleasure pours from me into you - my muscles spasm, my back arches, my fingers dig into your shoulders -

I roar your name.

" _JIM..._ "

 

 

_Oh my god..._

_I thought I knew what it was like to be fucked by Sebastian Moran._

_I've been such a fool..._

_Even in the last few days, when I realized I loved you and I let you fuck me..._

_I was completely clueless what it was actually like._

_*The full glory of Sebastian Moran unleashed*? I thought you were being dramatic for effect..._

_Oh my *fucking* god..._

_To have such a treasure next to me for two years, to be fucking him for 6 months, and to still have no idea??_

_I've been a blind fool... an idiot... a moron..._

_Although to be fair, if I was struggling the past few days to come to terms with my feelings for you, with intimacy, and with vulnerability... I'm not sure how well I would have fared with such potency, such *intensity*..._

_I feel like it's blasted everything away that wasn't you..._

_*My* Sebastian, *my* Tiger..._

_You're pounding into me, ranting my name, and fuck me, if it isn't the hottest thing ever..._

_and then you're coming inside me, convulsing against me, roaring my name like a beast..._

_and it's melting my brain, Tiger... it's melting the bars surrounding my heart and the imprint left from my soul - before I signed it away for the unparalleled power of being James Moriarty. And I thought that was all I needed in this life, to be a dark creature of power, strength, and cruelty, who ruled the world from a black, unassailable fortress._

_I was wrong, Tiger._

_I needed a dark creature to rule this world with me. To join me in my fortress for cuddles and epic fuck marathons and more cuddles._

_To be a valiant knight and rescue my poor frozen heart from the monster James Moriarty had become..._

_I'm happy to report I'm still a monster. But I'm *your* monster... and that makes all the difference in the world._

_These are the thoughts running through my mind as you fuck me like an animal, and have an epic orgasm like I've never seen._

_But all I manage to say is, "Oh god, *TIGER...FUUUCK*!!"_

_Which I suppose is everything I want to say in a nutshell... but I'll want to expand on "Oh god, TIGER...FUUUCK!!" in the coming days._

_For now, I'm panting as you lean against me, breathing hard._

_"That was, mmm... well, you've rendered me speechless, Sebastian..." I gaze up at you, pushing back the damp hair that's falling over your forehead._

_"Why didn't you *tell* me what I was missing out on, you foolish Tiger? And is there an epic orgasm in *my* immediate future, or is it all about you tonight?" I feel a puckish grin spreading across my face, and watch you closely as your eyes open._

 

 

All the world goes black and for a moment I'm afraid I'm going to pass out again... oh no, please...

But I manage to keep upright, keep breathing... from far far away your words penetrate, and I'm sure I'm going to realize what you're saying any moment now...

 _Bloody_ hell... that was... _fuuuckkkkk..._

I manage to steer my body just enough to not crush you as I collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily. Wow.

What were you saying? I rendered you speechless? Well, it doesn't seem like it, you're talking... Didn't tell you what you were missing out on!?

"Oh you little shit..." I chuckle at that.

"Yes, epic orgasm coming, you pushy little fucker... just give me a second... I _did_ just shag the hottest guy on the planet, you know... and now my memory is back, I can say that with confidence, because I'm pretty sure I've seen most guys on the planet by now. They all visit London at _some_ point... "

With superhuman effort, I turn over, lift my arm, let it fall on your chest.

"I have _no_ strength left... it's all been sucked out of me by my incubus boss..."

 

 

_“Fine... make me wait. I’ve only been waiting for you for three days...” I scowl. I think the effect is ruined when I bite my lip to keep from laughing._

_“Little shit? Pushy little fucker?! Sebastian! Is that what happens when you tell a Tiger you love him? He takes liberties with your body and speaks to you like a ruffian??” I *tsk* at you, shaking my head sadly. “*Manners*, darling...”_

_This time I can’t help but giggle as you pounce on me. “What did I say?!”_

 

 

"I'll show you liberties with your body..." I growl, before kissing your jaw, your neck, making my way down your chest, your belly... ah, look what we have here... hello old friend. Happy to see me as ever, I notice...

I lick my lips, gently place them around your head, move my tongue around, tasting your pre-come. I'm rewarded with a groan and a sucked-in breath. Slowly, very slowly, I move down, making larger circles, going deeper around...

 

 

_Oh god, oh god... If there were a competition for fellatio skills, I’m sure you would win, *hands down* (ha - clever, darling…)_

_Of course, if there were a competition, I would have no interest in sampling anyone else’s talents, and *you’re* certainly not allowed to demonstrate with anyone else, ever... so we’ll never know, except for the fact that I know. And I’m quite sure *you* know - you cocky fucker. The way you grin smugly around my cock when you look up at me, I know you’re well aware of your prodigious gift._

_But you can be as cocky as you like with a mouth like that - oh fuck, you weren’t kidding about Tiger unleashed... how did I not know what you were capable of after six months of fucking each other senseless??_

_I’m gasping and mewling as you show your expertise, and I’m powerless to stop. Jesus, you’re going to be a swaggering smart-arse from this point on, aren’t you?? I smile at the thought, and then groan loudly._

 

 

Oh, those are some _beautiful_ sounds you're making there, BossKitten... After all these months I still discover new ones. Was that a meow?

I _love_ having you writhe nearly insensate under my mouth... I know I'm good - of course I am, only the best for you, right Jim? But it's good to have it confirmed... and I _love_ giving you pleasure. You're looking down at me wide-eyed and haunted, your fingers clawing the sheets - that's right, Jim Moriarty... I'm yours, completely, entirely, forever... but you, my dear Kitten... you are mine.

I growl softly, making you squirm even more. Shall I allow you to come? I guess I should... I really am enjoying this, but I _am_ rather tired...

I start moving fast, rhythmically, caressing your testicles, feeling them contract - and you _howl_ and shudder and do me the honour of moaning out my name loudly and repeatedly as I do my very best to suck every last bit of semen out of you.

 

 

_Oh Jesus, oh *god*... what is it about bliss and suffering that make us call out to non-existent deities? Even *me*, godless little monster that I am... and happy to be so._

_But I can't help myself... I've been worried for so long, stretched out on a rack of anxiety and panic about your wellbeing, watching you be systematically undone by Lethe, disassembled and deconstructed... and then to be forcibly separated from you... not knowing where you were, or if I would *ever see you again*..._

_And mere hours later to have my beautiful Sebastian back inside me, kissing me... mouth on my cock and giving me wave upon wave of mad pleasure..._

_it's almost too much. I'm thrashing as you lick me and suck me, I'm tearing at the sheets, and then, god, the noises I make - it's a good thing I gave up playing hard to get, because *game over* would be flashing in bright red lights. So now I'm just howling and moaning your name over and over again..._

_*Game Fucking Over*..._

_(but I *like* games, I protest to myself...)_

_Mmm... Time for a better one, darling... I purr in response._

 

 

You finally squirm away from me, whimpering, and I magnanimously let you go. I crawl back up to head height and collapse, my head on your shoulder.

"Jim... I'm scared to go to sleep," I admit.

 

 

_My forehead creases and my heartbeat quickens._

_"Oh... I didn't think of that," I say slowly. "Well... William did say it works fairly quickly, and then it takes a few days for memories to come back. He didn't say anything about it potentially reversing once it started..." I caress your face. "I don't think - it would work that way, darling... But I can see why you'd be scared. Bloody hell, you've even got my brain firing off in a hundred different directions. It's OK to be scared, but it doesn't mean anything would happen - no matter how real the fear feels..." I stroke your face. "All right, Tiger?"_

 

 

Easy for you to say, Jim. You haven't spent days with your mind going from completely black, to being unable to speak, to disabling half your body... Mostly after waking up.

I know you're trying to be soothing, but it's not your natural strength, gorgeous.

And _some_ idiot shot William, didn't he? Because his loving arse was so eager to get you alone. Shit. Not the first time my cock's got me in trouble, and it probably won't be the last... but it's damn annoying.

I don't mind physical danger... I can deal with that. But this... This insidious eating away of my mind... I shudder. I hope never to have to deal with anything like that again... The papers mentioned side effects (which did _not_ include half of my body packing it in) but it didn't mention until _when_ they could occur. What if I wake up in the morning with 'potentially permanent brain damage'? What if I already _have_ an 'oversensitivity to the amnesiac effects of alcohol' but I just don't know it yet?

I don't want to go to sleep, but I'm _so_ tired... I must sleep eventually, I can't stay awake for the rest of my life...

 

"Jim... if I wake up with my mind gone... or I'm a vegetable... and it can't be fixed... shoot me, OK? Don't let me live the rest of my life in an institution or a hospital bed. Alright? Can you promise me that?"

 

 

_I stare at you, aghast. Oh, Jesus... no..._

 

_“Sebastian,” I start, then swallow hard._

_“Tiger-“ I try again, but it feels like my body is about to shake itself apart._

_My face crumples, and tears start *gushing* from my eyes._

 

_“Oh god... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry. Just the thought...” I start to sob. “Oh *god*, Sebastian - you know I would, if there were no other options... but *please* don’t talk that way. Because it’s not going to happen,” I shout, gripping your arm._

_“Do you hear me?! It’s - *not- allowed*-” I whimper, and bury my face in your hair._

_I’m sobbing great, heaving sobs, and feeling completely shredded by guilt._

_“Jesus... can’t I stay strong for you for five fucking minutes?? I’m so sorry...”_

 

 

Oh - oh Jim I'm sorry - I didn't think about how such a remark would affect you -

 

"Jim - no, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have said that - I'm tired - hell, I'm _exhausted_ \- and so much has happened, and I'm just - in a negative mood because of that? I'm sure it's going to be alright - I'm sure nothing bad will happen - maybe a headache, or something... I'm sorry I thought up a worst-case scenario. I'm not usually so pessimistic.

Jim, my darling, it's OK... don't cry, my love..."

 

You're still sobbing, and I hold you, caress you. My sweet sweet Jim... it's been an exhausting day for you too...

 

"It's alright my love... We're going to sleep and it's going to be fine... and when we wake up, we'll order a champagne breakfast in bed, and spend the rest of the day fucking each other senseless... It's going to be fine. Nothing in the papers with the pills said anything about actually losing your mind," _nor did it about losing control over half your body..._ Shut up! "and I'm sure William would have said something... " _why would he?_ Will you shut up!?

Yet somehow taking care of you has calmed my own fears down. Saying that it will be alright, Jim, has made me believe that it _will_ be alright, Sebastian.

I would love to have a fag but I'm too tired to disable the smoke detector. Bloody health freaks...

"Let's go to sleep, Jim. I'm immensely glad I got you back, and you got me back. We'll have to go to sleep at some point... You can wake me as soon as you wake to check that I'm alright, OK?"

I grab a tissue, wipe away your tears, kiss your lips gently.

 

 

_"Champagne breakfast sounds nice..." I say, my voice shaking. "I want pancakes..."_

 

_You chuckle at that. "You can have all the pancakes you want, darling..."_

 

_"I don't need a lot. They're quite filling..." I say softly. I sigh, and rest my face against your muscular chest._

_"I'm glad I got you back too, my sweet Tiger. You know I would go to the ends of the earth to save you, right? You have no idea what violence and mayhem I'd be capable of to get you back. New York would have *burned*..." I say darkly._

_Then I look at you with teary eyes. "I love you, Sebbie... I order you to be all right in the morning. I want pancakes and bacon and champagne and a seriously epic day of fucking..."_

_I kiss you, sniffling._

 

 

How can you be so _utterly adorable_ when you're dark and menacing? Is there anything cuter than a man saying he'll burn down New York for you?

"You know I can't disobey a direct order from you..." I smile. "So that's alright then..."

I cuddle you close, you put your head on my shoulder, and I am too comfortable and tired to switch off the light.

In seconds, I'm asleep.

 

 

_I watch you fall asleep so fast. Poor, anxious, exhausted Tiger... I will take care of you. Body, mind, heart and soul. You still have yours, despite your violent life... and I will protect it._

_I look at you as you breathe. Gently I ease off you to switch the light off, then return to your shoulder._

_I can hear you breathing and make out the outline of your face in the dark._

_*Mine* I think, feeling myself direct a vicious smile at potential threats. And then there is only blackness..._

 

 

I'm walking through a forest, with oil paintings hanging from the trees. Many of them are my ancestors - I remember them from my childhood home. I wonder why mum and dad have hung them in the forest. I guess oil is waterproof? But won't the frames warp?

My bed is in the forest too. That's fine - I'm used to sleeping outside. But I have the feeling there's something I've forgotten...

I am so tired though, so I go to sleep. When I wake up, it's dark in the forest, but I hear a whisper. I follow the sound and find a fire, with you sitting next to it. That's what I forgot! How could I forget you, Jim?! I run up to you, but you shout - _watch out!_ \- and a gun goes off to my right. I dive onto you, see blood splashing - yours or mine?! I reach for my gun, but I don't have it - damn it - where's my gun!?

You're squirming loose from my grasp, and I tell you to _stay down_ , but you're standing up and you're _huge_ \- your eyes are red - it's your demon form, of course. You roar and the trees shake, the paintings fall down, and a sniper drops from a branch. You grab him in your claws and rake off his head, then you turn to me. You grab my arm, and I see the blood pouring from it. You start crying, and you shrink as you cry, until you are my little Jim again. I want to tell you that it's OK, that it doesn't hurt, that nothing vital has been damaged, but my mouth doesn't work.

Shit. I've lost the power of speech. I _knew_ it. I try to speak, but I hardly get any sound out. You bend closer, try to hear me, but shake your head - you can't. I try again - no luck. I gather all my strength to shout-

"IT'S ALRIGHT!!!"

I sit up in bed, having shouted myself awake.

 

You shoot up, grab my chest, my head - "Tiger?! What's the matter? Are you alright?"

 

It takes me a moment to orient myself - where the fuck are we? Oh wait - New York - drugs - more drugs - killing -

My mind. Is my mind alright? I can remember stuff - can I speak?!

 

"Jim?"

 

"Sebastian! What is it, Tiger? Talk to me, please - "

 

"It's alright - I'm alright, Jim. I was only dreaming. I remember everything - the drug, and William and Francis, and before - it's alright. I'm alright."

 

 

_"Fuck," I breathe, collapsing against you. "*FUCK*, Sebastian... you nearly gave me a heart attack..."_

_I prop myself up on my elbow. "You really remember everything?? You feel OK?! After breakfast, I'm going to run you through a series of sex acts - each more intensive than the last, just to be sure..."_

_I crawl over your chest, wrapping my arms around your neck and staring into your eyes. "You’re really alright?” I demand. “Good morning, my beautiful Tiger... I love you..."_

 

 

"I love you too, Jim... fuck, so much... you're legendary..." I smile. "But you can fuck right off - it's 4 am and I'm neither having breakfast nor engaging in intensive sex acts. Don't look so shocked - I've had an intense couple of days and I'm _knackered_. You'll get much more joy out of me if you let me have a few more hours..."

You move off me, mock-miffed, but snuggle up to me in my arms. You are _such_ an adorable kitten... how could we spend all those months without me seeing that? Was I wilfully blind, not prepared to take on the immensity of what it would mean if you and I were in an equal, loving relationship? Was it easier on me to just pine from a safe distance, rather than accept the oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness into my heart? Or even scarier... accept love in my heart?

This sounds like an excellent question to ponder some other time...

I fall back into a deep sleep, my kitten safely cuddled up in my arms.

 

 

_Hmph. You always did have a *mouth* on you, Tiger. But this feels next level - putting your foot down, telling me what’s what! Well... you’ve been through a lot... and apparently love supersedes the need to be in control 100% of the time? Double hmph - nobody told me *that*._

_So I’ll allow you more sleep… even though you’re the one who woke *me* up! But don’t for one moment think this means you get to make the rules now..._

_There’s only one Boss in this relationship, I think haughtily. Then I yawn and stretch, safe in your arms and tumble back into the blackness._

_When I wake up again, you’re awake and you’re looking at me. I close my eyes, yawning._

 

_“Morning, Tiger... are you going to tell me to fuck off and lay down the law again?” I ask sleepily. Then my eyes fly open again._

_“Are you alright, darling?” I ask, panicking._

 

 

It's light - bed feels wrong - head hurts - where are we?

Oh yes - New York.

Head hurts not from a bender but from a drug called... Mnemosyne. For a drug that's meant for people who've lost their memory, they sure have chosen a name that's hard to remember... unless one has a classical education, like myself. Gah. There are parts of my memory I could have done without... still, you probably don't get to pick and choose. Though that seemed to be what William wanted with his Lethe... help people get rid of unwanted memories... too bad it got rid of _all_... but that of course was exactly what his uncle wanted.

I explore my mind - everything _seems_ to be in its place. My mother's name is Susanne, Lady Moran née Markinswell, my nan's cats were in order Sam, Bucky, Layla, Tommy, and Duke; I was in the SAS Squadron A troop 3, met you two years ago and you made me yours six months ago, and you said you loved me four days ago.

Now to see if I can speak... I don't want to wake you up...

As if on cue, you stir, and after a moment open your eyes. Right - the moment of truth -

 

"No and yes," I grin. "I wouldn't dream of laying down the law, Sir... and I'm very much alright."

Oh, thank god.

 

 

_A smile spreads across my face._

_"*Tiger*..." I purr._

_I wrap my arms around your neck, and kiss your face over and over._

_"My Tiger..." I whisper, and take your face in my hands._

_"Words cannot express how happy I am to wake up with you, darling... And I look forward to morning after morning of waking up with my Tiger love. Beginning now."_

 

 

"Your wish is my command, Sir..." I grin. "Do you want the series of sex acts to start now, or would you prefer breakfast first?"

Orgasms and coffee are both good against headaches...

 

 

_I stretch luxuriously in your arms. "I'll give this one to you, darling... you've been through so much. It's our very first morning together... what do you want to do first?"_

_I nibble gently on your earlobe. "Choose wisely. But either way... at some point I'll want to celebrate your return by reuniting you with the sting of my whip. Will you be up for it, soldier?"_

 

 

My sharp intake of breath should be answer enough for you... Old Sebastian has felt the sting of your whip a _lot_ , but there was no love... New Sebastian has felt it with love, but without the history... Complete Sebastian can't wait to have the complete sensation.

"If I can choose... then that's what I choose... as to whether I will be up for it... well..." I glance down at my cock, "... it would appear so."

I kiss your neck. "I've felt your whip so often, and I've always loved it... well, most of the time. Feeling it with all my memory of before, yet feeling it with your love... that sounds like the best morning imaginable."

 

 

_I pull back your head and kiss you hungrily. “Are you sure you don’t want breakfast first to keep your strength up?”_

_I crawl over you, and the slide of your warm skin under mine sets me on fire. “A nice fry-up like you love so much? Cups and cups of coffee?”_

_I grind my pelvis against yours and dig my nails into your neck. “Tiger?” I breathe._

 

 

"You know what I love even more than a nice fry-up and cups of coffee?" I pant. "I think you do... and I think you are aware of how crazy you're driving me with your hard cock rubbing against mine, with your nails in my neck, with your breath in my ear... I want to be whipped by the man I love, and who loves me... and then I want him to take me hard, make me feel I am his possession, as well as the man who turns him on more than anyone else ever could, as well as the man he loves... do you think you'd be up to that challenge, baby? Do _you_ need a coffee first?"

 

 

_I laugh low in my throat. “Do *I* need a coffee first? That was me being *considerate*, darling. I know you’re not used to it yet, but I’m a sweetheart now. Try to catch up...” I sink my teeth in your neck, and I hear you growl._

_“Oh Tiger, you can’t make noises like that and expect me to wait for *coffee*... get me the whip and handcuffs from the suitcase. Now.” I lean back against the headboard, smiling as I watch you stand._

 

 

My head pounds as I stand up, but there is no rush of blackness, so that's good. Anyway, nothing but full-blown unconsciousness could keep me from obeying your commands - and maybe not even that. I have a brief vision of my unconscious self obeying your directions like a kind of zombie, muscles so well-trained that the brain is not even required any more...

But the brain is very much here, and very grateful for the chance to experience this - the man I love and the man I worship, giving me orders - always a delight - but this time without the risk of the man I love turning into the man I hate - the man who goes too far, the man who grows cold, the man who is cruel for cruelty's sake, the man who purposely makes me sad just to relish the despair on my face... hopefully we've put that man to rest for good...

You're going to hurt me because we _both_ enjoy it. You're going to make me feel I am yours because I _want_ to be. And you will kiss my tears and tell me you love me... and that is the most exquisite prospect I could imagine.

I open the suitcase, left near the wardrobe by the valet last night and ignored by us in our urgency to enjoy one another, and take out your whip and handcuffs, the leather and metal cold in my hands. I turn around to see you smiling on the bed, that smile that makes my knees tremble, but with a warmth underneath it that wasn't there before. It makes me want to fall to my knees in front of you as well as pounce you and kiss you all over.

I do neither, walk over to you, and hand you your implements.

"Here you are, Sir."

 

 

_"*Thank* you, darling. Turn around."_

_You do without hesitation._

_I throw one set of handcuffs to the bed, and they clank as they land on the duvet._

_I secure your hands behind you with the other set._

 

_"Face me."_

_I watch as you turn. Damn... there's nothing like a naked Tiger, obedient and restrained. *Nothing*..._

_I stare at you hard._

 

_"*Kneel*."_

_I stand in front of your kneeling form, looking down at you intently._

 

_"Suck me..." I say in a breathy voice._

_I feel your lips around my cock, and my head goes back._

 

_"So good..." I whisper._

 

 

It's so good to hear those commands spoken with such love and tenderness... and now I hear it, I realize that it has been there before, just a tiny little bit... almost imperceptible, but now I know what to look for, I remember certain looks, a timbre in the words...

And I love you _so fucking much_ , as I feel your shackles close around my wrists, as I sink to my knees in front of you, as I obediently open my mouth for your delicious cock... there is nothing, nothing in this world I love more than following your commands, feeling your lust for me, satisfying that lust in the way only I can... feeling that glow of pride at how I make you hard, make you moan, make you come...

I realize that the feeling I had when my memory was gone, that you are my god, is accurate... I'm not a religious man, never have been, but you are a higher power that I'll gladly devote my life to, in a way that Queen and Country never were.

Your words of approval are like a warm glow poured over me, approval from above, and it makes me fill with warmth and love and immense joy.

 

 

_The things you do with your mouth... you have me moaning within the first few moments, and it would be *so* easy to come quickly... but after all the build-up of these last few days, this needs to be momentous. There's nothing that turns me on like whipping you and making you groan and cry out. And there is something so territorial about coming in your arse, claiming it as *mine* - I've done this with you countless times in the past, and I did it when you had amnesia, but this is the first time I'll have done it with you knowing I love you. It needs to happen. It *will happen*._

 

_"Oh *god*, Tiger... stop, *stop*..." I gasp. "You're astounding, darling... but I'm going to whip you now. And then I'm going to claim that gorgeous arse for myself..." I lick my lips. "I assume there are no objections. Get up, darling..."_

_You do, and I release your wrists and kiss you hungrily._

 

_"Kneel facing the bed, hands on the bedposts..."_

_You obey, and I cuff you to the posts. I look down at you kneeling on the floor, and admire your muscular back. I trace the lashes on your skin, making you shiver._

 

_"I whipped you several times while you had amnesia... you were so insistent that I did, Tiger! It may be a little soon to whip you again, but - you did ask, and who am I to deny you? I'd go easy on you, but that's not what you really want is it? You want to be mine, you want to be home?"_

_I step back and slash hard across your shoulder._

 

_"Welcome back, my beautiful love..."_

 

 

Ohhh god Jim... YES, this is home, home is kneeling, restraints, and pain, all brought by the man I love, who loves me.

Home is two dark eyes which light up when they hear me moan, in pleasure or pain.

Home is your cock in my mouth, your beautiful whimpers as I suck every bit of ecstasy from you.

Home is a sleeping Kitten, who wakes up and whose first... well, second thought is of how I am feeling.

Home is the temple of my god, my dark lord, the ruler of my world, as well as the rest of the world - the most powerful, strong, impressive man I've ever met.

Home is a naked, sweet boy in my arms who is afraid he's no good for me.

Home is being hugged by muscular, smooth arms.

Home is being with the man I was created for. The man who I spent my entire life working towards being good enough for. The man who chose me, and elevated me to be the best I could possibly be.

Home is you. My Jim. My love.

 

 

_"The thing is, Tiger..." I say as I administer lashes down your back. "It's a new dynamic between us, and we need to navigate it. I suspect we'll be bumping up against each other for the first little while, not knowing how to, well, *be* with each other - because we never have! Isn't that a heady thing, darling?"_

_I smile at your gasps and groans in response to the sharp snaps of the whip against your flesh._

 

_"I mean, old Tiger is used to cold, cruel psychopath Jim. New Tiger is used to me being weepy sweetheart Jim (who can still go on a murderous rampage when needed). Now that you're both, and I'm both... how does that change our relationship? We need to discover who we are *now*... and I propose we take some time to do just that._

_We'll stay in New York for a few days - there's a bit of work to do, as we divvy up Francis's drug supplies with Joey Russo. We can also hack into his system, and see what clients and aspects of his business we could take for ourselves... doesn't that sound fun, darling?"_

_I close my eyes and listen with pleasure to your moaning._

 

_"But we can find plenty of time to go for a carriage ride..."_

 

_*snap*_

 

_"Take a romantic stroll in Central Park and kill any muggers who try to accost us..."_

 

_*snap*_

 

_"Visit Coney Island... so you can win me a plush Tiger!"_

 

_*snap snap snap*_

_I throw the whip on the bed and kneel on the floor to wrap my arms around you._

 

_"Fuck, I love you, Sebastian..." I breathe against your neck. "I want to spend this time to get to know you... I need to know *everything*..._

_What do you say to a romantic getaway for two in a violent crime-ridden metropolis? What could go wrong?"_

 

_You turn to face me, grinning. “Sounds perfect. Are you going to stop talking long enough to fuck me?”_

 

_I laugh with delight, and kiss you._

_"Shut up and savour the moment, Tiger. Against ghastly odds we won *spectacularly* and I’m in the mood to celebrate..._

_Darling – tonight we’re going to paint this town *red*..."_

 

_I get up to grab the small tube from the bedside table, and kneel behind you. “The *mouth* on you, Tiger… let’s see what I can do to shut *you* up for the next little while…” I begin to coat my cock with lube._

 

_“You can try…” you say in a smug voice. But there’s excitement there, too. I smack your arse hard, and you let out a small grunt of surprise and pleasure._

 

_“Oh, I’ll do more than try…” I say in a throaty voice, as I slide my finger into you to lube your entrance. You shiver, and I lick your neck. I withdraw my finger and replace it with the head of my cock, prodding your entrance._

_“I have a welcome home gift for you," I purr in your ear, "This is the size that fits you best, isn't it, Tiger?"_

_Your laugh is cut short by your groan as I push into you.  
_

 

_"Oh *fuck yes*, baby," you gasp, and I smile._

 

_"Then... shall we begin?" I whisper against your hair, feeling you shiver._

_  
I push further in, gripping your hips, just as you push back against me._ _We both moan loudly... my arms wrap around your torso and your hands move to my arse... and our bodies begin to move._

 


End file.
